


By The Firelight

by After88



Series: Heatwave Days and Whirlwind Nights [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Modern Thedas, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Road Trip, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-02-27 11:54:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 64,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/After88/pseuds/After88
Summary: A road trip brings up some feelings Hawke tried her best to forget.(Previously titled "No Shit")





	1. The Birds-Eye View

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be a oneshot, but I'm terrible for wanting to continue things.  
> I apologise in advance for the feels.

“Right!” Hawke spoke aloud to herself, admiring the controlled mess taking up the hallway, “Got my bag, my clothes, my phone, my purse, my keys, my ID. Got some booze... and some other shit”

A rythmic knock at the door shook her from her thoughts. She knew who it would be, but she couldn't open it without making sure through the eyehole. Out of habit, of course.

“Well hello there, stranger!” Isabela cheered as she opened the door, “You ready to go?”  
“Yeah.” Hawke replied, pulling her boots on and grabbing her bag, “So where are we meeting everyone?”  
“Outside Varric's.”  
“Oh.” Hawke said, forcing her voice out and ignoring the panic creeping over her, “I take it he's coming too then?”  
“Didn't I say? He's the one that organised this.”  
“Aah right.” Hawke sighed, locking the door, taking longer than really necessary, “I guess I must have forgotten.”

  
  


Just as Isabela said, the group gathered on the street outside Varric's apartment building. Everyone was coming, it seemed. Well, minus Aveline. Going to the middle of nowhere to get drunk and high wasn't exactly her idea of fun, somehow. Plus she was only just married a month ago. She and Donnic still had a lot of honeymoon-ing to do.

“How are we all going to fit in Varric's car?” Anders asked, counting the group, “There's five of us here, add Varric, that's six... Doesn't his car only have space for five?”

_Great. I can back out then without seeming to suspicious._

“Maybe someone can sit in the boot?” Fenris sighed.  
“Or on someone else's knee?” Isabela cooed, winking in Hawke's direction. Hawke couldn't help but smirk.  
Anders quickly raised his hand, “I volunteer to sit on Fenris' lap!”  
Hawke expected to see a frown on Fenris face, but instead he smirked back at him. Oh yeah, those two were together now. Strange.

“Where is he? He's taking ages!” Isabela moaned.

Right on cue, an unfamiliar car pulled up and Varric hopped out. Hawke took a deep breath and looked at her bags. And her shoes.  
It was much easier that way.  
Yeah, much easier.

“Right, this car is a seven-seater so one of you will have to sit in the back beside everyone's things.” Varric's voice called out to the group. Hawke certainly didn't get goosebumps.  
“I don't mind!” Merrill chirrped.

Varric was staring at her, wasn't he? She didn't exactly have the stomach to check, so she tried to ignore it, but it wasn't very easy and steadily getting harder. So she forced herself to breathe (for no particular reason), turned to face him, doing her best to ignore the fact that her stomach had just turned to ice. A smile spread over her face as easily as hard butter on white bread, but she managed, raising her eyebrows slightly for good measure. Well, at least she'd had plenty practice.

“Long time no see, then.” Hawke spoke, he eyes flickering to his face for a split second.  
“Y- yeah!” He replied, his face a picture of shock. “How've you been doing?” Andraste's tits, his voice was unwelcomely welcome.  
“Good, good.” She nodded, fighting to keep down the surge of emotion, “How've you been?”

_Not that I don't already know, thanks to Isabela._

“Good. I've been excited for this!”  
Bless him, he really _did_ seem excited.

“If Fenris and Anders are sitting in the back then I'm sitting in the front.” Isabela cried, leaping in front of everyone to get to the passenger seat, “I don't want to be beside them when the bickering begins.”  
“We do _not_ bicker.” Fenris sighed.  
“Yeah!” Anders agreed, “We only have disagreements.”  
“Being in denial doesn't make it any less annoying, you know.” Isabela retorted.  
“Now, now, children.” Varric sighed dramatically, raising his hands in the air, “No need to fight. We're not even on the road yet!”

With everyone and their things bundled in, Varric started up the car up, readying to go. Hawke managed to grab the back seat on the other side from Varric. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it meant she had a good view of the back of him; exactly _not_ what she wanted. Not only that, but the rear-view mirror gave her a perfect view of Varric's face (not that she was looking or anything) so she praised the Maker when he adjusted it.

The radio came on, blasting everyone with rock music. Maybe it was soft rock, to be more precise. Hawke was never one for telling the difference between genres. Music was music. That song... she recognised it, though.

“Varric, dear. Do you not have anything more modern? _Or_ upbeat?” Isabela sighed.  
“Or soothing?” Poor Merrill's muffled voice came out from under a bundle of bags.

Hawke couldn't help but let a smirk worm its way out.  
 _New music? Varric? She has to be kidding._

“I think it's only fair that the driver gets to pick the first CD.” He retorted, getting ready to pull out, “And I've made my decision.”

The group grumbled in agreement, but Isabela pulled out some headphones and Anders shared his with Fenris. Hawke cursed herself for not bringing hers.

“ _Loving you isn't the right thing to do  
But how can I ever change things that I feel?  
If I could maybe I'd give you my world  
How can I when you won't take it from me?_

“Everyone comfortable?” Varric asked, met with a general sound of agreement, “Off we go then.”

_You can go your own way  
You can call it another lonely day  
You can go your own way”_

“Could you give me a bit more space, love?” Anders asked Fenris, not even minutes into the journey, probably batting his eyelids at him.  
“You're already taking up more space than me.” He scoffed back.  
“I can't help not being as lanky as you.”  
“Well, excuse me for-”  
“ _I_ can move over a bit,” Hawke interrupted, shuffling over. A little less space was preferable to hearing the pair bickering. They weren't this bad before, were they?

“ _Tell me why everything turned around  
Packing up, shacking up is all you wanna do  
If I could, baby I'd give you my world  
Open up, everything's waiting for you”_

Hawke kept her eyes firmly steeled on the window. Not on anything else. It would be no good to let herself look, especially when he was so close. Especially _especially_ when she hadn't seen him in so long. Especially especially _especially_ when she knew he wouldn't realise she was staring... Especially when they-

No. She didn't need to think about that. No thank you.

So instead, she busied her mind by humming along to the song, tapping out the drum beat with her fingers. At least it worked, though. That kept her mind off... certain things and her eyes off certain people.

“ _You can go your own way  
You can call it another lonely day  
You can go your own way”_

“Rivaini, stop looking at my chest.” Varric sighed, stopping at a traffic light, “My eyes are up here.”  
“But the chest hair...”  
“Do you know how much I suffer under your gaze? Maker's balls, I'm a person, not an object!”  
“Uh... Varric?”

He let out a booming laugh that seemed to shake the whole car and somehow sent shivers down Hawke's spine. Did she really hate him _that_ much?

“Just shitting you! You should have seen the look on your face!”

Hawke didn't realise her teeth were grinding together until she leant her jaw on her clenched fist.

“ _You can go your own way  
You can call it another lonely day  
You can go your own way”_

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Hawke pushed her eyelids apart, her head still splitting and stomach still queasy. Birthday cake and alcohol was always a bad idea. You would have thought she'd learnt her lesson last year... or the year before that. But nope.

With much difficulty, she managed to haul herself up onto her elbows and then a sitting position. Once that exertion was over, she tried to look for her phone, her eyes still kinda glued together.

 _Wait a sec..._ She thought to herself, her brain not exactly the poster child of sense, _This isn't my room?_

She looked around, clothes strewn all over the floor that - sure enough - wasn't hers. It _was_ familiar though. Although that did nothing to help the situation.

_Oh great. Another one night stand I can't remember. Who was it this time?_

Her eyes scanned the room, looking for clues, but she was no detective. Candles? Books? There was a desk that probably used to house the piles of paper also scattered on the floor. All in all, this room could belong to anyone in Kirkwall. Great.

_I guess I'll have to do it the old fashioned way._

She shuffled over and looked beside her to whoever she'd spent the night with, carefully moving the covers to see-

_Varric?_

Her eyes practically burst out of her head. Painfully so, due to her headache.

_No, no, no. This is a dream or a joke or a misunderstanding. Or something. Anything._

But when she looked down at her body, she couldn't deny that she was very much lacking clothes. Yes, very naked. Impossible to be any more naked. Varric had his necklace on, at least. That was... something.

She levered herself off the bed and scrambled for her clothes, making as little noise as possible. Which was in fact a lot, due to her hangover and lack of stability. After the third time she dropped her belt on the floor, Varric stirred and rolled over.

“Hawke?” He asked, a confused look on his face, “What are you doing?”  
“Just saving you the trouble of finding me naked in your bed.” She looked around a little more, “My, eh, bra is missing so if you find it then I'd appreciate it if you could give it back.”

He raised his eyebrows, but soon took notice of his own nakedness and blushed. He hastily pulled the covers further over him, gripping onto the covers for what seemed like dear life.

“Shit, did we...?”   
“I assume so.”  
“I thought you'd been joking about, well...”  
“Wanting to fuck you? What's that thing they say?” Hawke sighed dramatically, “Behind every joke is a needle of truth?”

He smirked, sitting up. His hair was tousled, loose from it's usual tie and his eyes glittering in what little light was in the room. Oh wait, what was that on his neck? Hickies? _And_ they were on both sides! Holy shit! She snorted at the sight of them, suppressing whatever urge of lust she felt.

“What?” He asked, a rare, self-concious look on his face, “What is it?”  
“I hope you own a turtleneck.” Hawke giggled.  
“I don't...” He trailed off, a panic stricken look on his face. He used his phone as a mirror and sighed. “Maker's breath, Hawke! Were you trying to eat me?”

Her giggles turned to chuckles, which soon gave way to a full belly laugh. It must have been contagious because Varric soon joined in too.

That was what they needed. Laughter. The whole situation was so fucking ridiculous, there wasn't much else to do.

The pair's laughter slowly dissolved into an almost comfortable silence while Hawke attempted to lace her boots. The important word being _attempted._

“You know, you can stay a little longer if you want.” Varric sighed, rubbing his neck, “I probably have tons of food left over from last night.”  
“For a second there I was beginning to think that you were trying to entice me back to bed.”  
“Who says food has to be eaten at a table?”

Her grin widened, almost reaching her ears as she threw her boots back off.

“You want anything?”  
“I'm good for now.”

She sauntered through to the kitchen, trying to remember last night. Nope, just haze and blank space. Shame, sex with Varric would have been a nice memory to have. A very nice memory indeed. She picked up a paper plate and stuffed it high with whatever she could find. She honestly hadn't eaten so much Fereldan food since... well, leaving Fereldan probably.

She made her way back to his bedroom and sat beside Varric, who was now on top of his covers. He sat in a dressing gown, his chest still out (praise the Maker), checking his phone.

“Umuhuh ubruba?”  
“Pardon?” He asked, looking up.  
Hawke swallowed the remains of a sausage roll, “Anything interesting?”  
“I think you must have stolen my phone at some point.”  
“Varric dear, you wound me!”  
“Who else would download...” He shook his head, “...hundreds of pictures of dragons and mabaris?”

A wisp of a memory came back to her. Something about a bet?

“You sure that's not _my_ phone?”  
“It may as well be now.”  
“Any idea where mine is then?”  
“Your guess is as good as mine. Want me to phone it?”  
She nodded, yet another sausage roll stuffed into her mouth. He called the number and Hawke kept an ear out for the ringtone.

“Oh shit, hi?” Varric spoke into the phone, “Oh, hi Aveline. Yeah, that _is_ Hawke's phone.” He looked over at her, “She's fine, just wondering where her phone was.” Hawke rolled her eyes, “At the police station? Yeah, she'll come pick it up when she can... Fine, fine. Just a bit hungover.... Thanks for that, anyway.... Speak later. Bye.”

He put the phone down and put his hands over his eyes.

“It was found on the street beside a pile of sick and handed into the station.”

She snorted. Hearing of how drunk she was was always a strange sort of schadenfreude to her.

“Good night though?” He asked.  
“I have no idea.” She shrugged her shoulders, “The evening seemed pretty good from what I can remember though.”  
“Sounds about right. I mean, if you _did_ remember your birthday then it wouldn't have been spent right.”  
“Oh, wait! I remember pre-drinks...” Her face scrunched up as if it would help her remember. “We played never have I ever. And you...” She watched Varric's mouth purse, “You hadn't been with a human before!”  
“Aah, shit. I hoped you'd forget that.”  
“How could I possibly? I'm honoured to have been the first human you've successfully enticed to bed.”  
“The only one I've tried to.”  
“Stop it!” She giggled, “No wait, don't!”  
“Aah yes, that's exactly what you need. An inflated ego.”  
“I already have one, in case you haven't noticed.”  
“Don't worry, I have.”

She dug into her food once more, trying to avoid looking at Varric's exposed chest. It was hard enough at the best of times but right now...

“If you take a picture it'll last longer.”  
“Huh?”

He looked at her over his phone, one eyebrow raised and the other lost under his long, messy hair. Did he know how fucking hot he looked right now?

“My chest. You're staring.”  
“Well I _would_ take a picture but unfortunately Aveline has my phone. So unfortunately for me,” She put a hand to her forehead and threw her head back dramatically, “I just _have_ to make do with the real thing. How very awful!”  
“What a shame.” He sighed, a smirk on his lips, “I _almost_ feel sorry for you.”

She smirked back, took another mouthful of sandwich and pursed her lips in thought. She wasn't sure if Varric was getting the hints she was trying to throw him. Was there a subtle way to tell him she wanted another fuck?

_Me? Subtle? I may as well give up on that now._

“You know,” She said, setting down her plate beside the bed, tilting her head to him - or _at_ him, more like, “It's been far too long since I've had a good roll in the hay... That I can remember, I mean.”  
He raised his eyebrows, “Is this some sort of subtle hint?”  
“Maaaaybe? I mean...” The butterflies in her stomach made their way to her throat and she swallowed them back down, “I guess I wouldn't mind another go.”

She watched him swallow and his eyes flicker up and down. _Now_ she had his attention.

“What, now?”  
“Why not? They say there's no time like the present! Unless...” She raised her eyebrows, “there's something on your phone more interesting?”  
“I eh-” He put his phone down with almost a clatter, “What would this be then?”  
“Friends fucking? No strings attached, obviously.”  
“Obviously.” He repeated, softly, his face unreadable. Shit, she'd just said something terrible, hadn't she?  
“I mean, if you don't want to then don't let me-”  
“No.” He said firmly, “I want to. This isn't going to get in the way of our friendship though?”  
“I promise. Well, unless you're absolutely terrible. Then I'll probably move back to Fereldan.”  
“Okay, okay.” His mouth turned up into a smile, “I'm probably going to regret this but... why not. I'm up for it.”

She bit her lip. Okay, that was _surprisingly_ easy. She shuffled a little for a better position, moving her body closer to his as she tentatively ran her fingers up his chest, as if testing scorching bathwater. And yet, a smile grew on her face.

“How _did_ I know that was going to be the first thing you'd do?”  
“I have absolutely no idea.” She sighed, licking her lips and moving even closer.

She could smell the alcohol, the paper, the candles, the aftershave lingering on his skin. It was all just so... _Varric._

 _Fuck fuck fuck fuck!?_ She screamed internally, _Have I ever been so nervous with someone before?_ _This is just because I know him, isn't it? He's not a stranger I'm not going to see again. He's **Varric.**_

“You okay?” He asked, his honey eyes piercing back at her.  
“Never better.” She smirked, their lips finally touching.

It felt like a bolt of electricity through her brain, as if in that moment, the outside world no longer existed. She pulled him in closer, feeling his rough stubble. But it was nice. _Really_ nice. Almost familiar. His tongue swirled into her mouth and she couldn't help but moan.

His hand snaked its way up her back to the back of her head, his fingers entwining themselves into her hair. Not the best idea since she'd been drinking a hell of a lot last night. Maker only knows what was in there, but he didn't seem to notice though.

With the hand she wasn't using to keep herself steady, she traced the soft lines of Varric's chest. Okay yeah, he _definitely_ worked out.

Suddenly, Varric inhaled sharply, his stomach tensing.

“You okay?” Hawke asked, thankful for a reason to breathe. Because she _would_ have forgotten to.  
He nodded, although his eyes darted away from hers. Her hand moved again and a stifled squeak escaped.  
“My, my, Varric Tethras!” Hawke cooed, this new revelation music to her ears, “Are _you_ ticklish?”  
“A... bit.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.  
“Good to know!” She chirped, leaning in to kiss him again.

It wasn't like electricity this time, more like... fire? Her face flushed hot, she could feel it to the rest of her body. She could have been engulfed in flames and she wouldn't have known the difference. Even her toes, which always seemed to be freezing were tingling with heat.

Carefully, as to not tickle this time, she tugged lightly at Varric's robe. Unfortunately, he had put underwear on too, but she could pretty clearly see what was underneath. And Maker, she liked what she saw.

Varric's hand moved from her hair to under her t-shirt, tracing over her stomach and up, up to her bare breasts, cupping them gently, his thumb tracing over the soft skin. She was actually grateful she couldn't find her bra.

“Fuck...” Varric breathed, or at least, Hawke swore he did. It was barely audible against Hawke's deep breaths.

Oh yeah, this was going to be good.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“We're going to have to stop for gas soon.” Varric's voice sliced through the memory.

Hawke shook her head, trying in vain to keep unwanted thoughts from her brain. Well, not _completely_ unwanted. More... inconvenient?

“Thank Andraste, I'm starving.” Anders moaned.  
“I can't wait to stretch my legs.” Fenris sighed.  
“Amn't I glad I'm a dwarf!” Varric smirked.

It wasn't long before they came across a petrol station and everyone tumbled out of the car. Varric set about refilling the car while Hawke and Isabela made their way inside. Food was definitely on the agenda, especially as Hawke couldn't remember if she'd eaten at all yet today. Luckily, the shop had more than enough life-shorteningly unhealthy food to last... well, a short lifetime.

Hawke was so absorbed in choosing snacks that she'd barely taken notice of her surroundings. But then again, being faced with an innumerable amount of crisps usually did that to a person.

“Guys, guys!” Merrill cried, running over, snapping her from her food induced trance.  
“You okay?” Isabela asked, lowering her naughty magazine.  
“It's just... There's a...” She wheezed.  
“What's wrong, Daisy?” Varric asked from behind a book rack. Of course.  
“A sausage dog!” She squeaked, _this_ close to jumping up and down “With a bow tie on! A bow tie!” She made an ungodly noise, “Where are the doggy treats? I want to buy her one!”  
“I saw some by the counter.” Varric sighed, pointing that way.  
“Her name is Matilda!” She cried, before running off in that general direction.

Hawke went back to the food, this time looking at the sweets on offer.

_What was that one I liked when I was younger? The spicy gobstoper? Dragon... something. Dragon... fire?_

She scanned the shelves. It had been a while since the last time she'd had it. Maybe it was only available in Fereldan, or maybe it had been-

_Aha! I knew it!_

She took a few packets and was about to take them over to the counter, her arms already aching with the sheer amount of food. How was it all even going to fit in the car?

“Hawke! Look at this!” Isabela giggled.

Of course, Hawke went over.

“Look how ridiculous this position is!” Her giggle turned to a snort as she tilted the magazine each way, as if looking for a clue, “I bet it's actually photoshopped or something.”

A male dwarf and a female elf were tangled into each other, forced expressions of lust on their faces. That position _was_ in fact possible for a dwarf and a human at least, even if it was a little difficult. Her face flushed at the memory.

“You've never been with a dwarf, have you?” Hawke mumbled to herself.  
“What?”  
“Oh, nothing.” She sighed, making her way to the counter once more.

_What is she playing at? Does she know?_

She looked back at her, once the sweets were paid for. She was showing the page to Anders, who seemed to be getting as much amusement out of it as she was.

_Probably not. Hopefully not. You're just paranoid, Hawke. It's just Izy being Izy_

“And two packs of the cheapest cigarettes you have.” She sighed, digging deeper in her pocket for money.

_Why the fuck did I agree to stop smoking? Lame._

Anders appeared soon after that, waving a hot dog under poor Fenris' nose. Maybe that was an idea. A nice hot dog.

“Hey Fenny, do you like my hot dog?”  
“You know how I feel about eating ground up pig leftovers.”  
“Oh, you're no fun!” Anders sighed, exasperatedly, “Don't you get it? _Hot dog_?”

This was probably the worst Hawke had seen Fenris scowl in a long time, even though she hadn't actually seen him in a long time. Anders, however, didn't seem to be getting the hint and began pushing his luck by winking rapidly, causing Fenris' scowl to worsen. Maker help him.

“What?” Anders sighed, “Don't you _like_ my hot dog? You seemed to like it the other night when-”  
In one swift move, Fenris slapped it out of Anders' hand, onto the floor, sending a cornucopia of sauce flying all over the floor.

“Fenny! I was eating that!”  
“No you weren't. You were using it to taunt me.” Fenris growled, his voice raising with every word.  
“True, but I _was_ going to eat it _after_ I'd finished taunting you with it!”

Fenris scoffed and made his way back to the car, muttering something that was probably in Tevene.

“I guess I have to get another hot dog.” Anders sighed, still a cheeky twitch of his lips behind his comedic frown.

How Fenris hadn't murdered Anders by now was a mystery. Something to do with love, probably. Love does weird things to you.  
Not that Hawke would know.  
Hah, of course not.

She made her way back to the car to dump her things and maybe have a smoke. Depending.

“Hawke” A familiar voice spoke, “Could I possibly...”

At the sound of Varric's voice, she panicked and stuffed her mouth with gobstoppers, the rest of her food falling to the floor in a very ungraceful fashion. Thank fuck they weren't opened.

“Uhuh?” She mumbled without turning around. She didn't need to, really. All her best conversations had been done with her back to them.

There was a pause. She could hear Varric's feet shuffling behind her. Did he get the hint?

N-never mind.” He grumbled and Hawke had to ignore the pain in his voice.  
 _Yeah, don't worry. I don't want me to be here either._

A cigarette was definitely necessary, especially with the starts of tears threatening to get out. Yeah, these sweets certainly hadn't lost their spice.

Once everyone had bought their dirty magazines and enough unhealthy snacks to feed a small army, they turned their attentions to Merrill. Or more specifically, Merrill and Matilda. It was a group effort to haul her away from the poor (now overfed) dog, but they eventually managed and bundled her back into the car before she could steal it for herself.

“Can I put some of _my_ music on?” Isabela asked, fluttering her eyelashes.  
Varric rolled his eyes, almost hilariously so, “Fine, fine.” He sighed, taking his own CD out and taking great care to put it back in its case safely. Typical Varric.

“Let's see if I can get this bluetooth to work...” She mumbled, fiddling with her phone and the radio.  
A few beeps later, a catchy, upbeat, electronic song blasted through the speakers so loudly that Hawke swore she could feel it vibrating through her butt cheeks.

“Maker's balls, Rivaini. What the fuck is this?” He sighed, turning the music down.  
“ _Good_ music. A _real_ classic.” Isabela replied, turning it back up and the window down.  
“Maybe to you.” Hawke thought she heard.

Isabela shrugged and began doing rhythmic hand movements in time with the song.

“We all ready to go?” Varric asked, narrowly avoiding a chop on the head from Isabela.  
The group nodded, mumbles of “yes” and “sure” almost lost over the music.

“ _Yesterday I had a dream of you.  
I gave your love away, but I belong to you.”_

Hawke tapped along to the song, watching Isabela's rythmic dancing out of the corner of her eye as she popped another gobstopper in her mouth. At least _she_ was enjoying herself.

“ _Rainy days on my hair without you, sunny days on my skin around you.  
I feel better when I remember yesterday, yeah.  
Memories in my heart, how does that feel?  
Memories in my mind seems to be real.  
What a wonderful tale about my yesterday, yeah.”_

The countryside rolled past them once more. She'd forgotten how much she'd missed it. The fields, the trees, the country air. And she'd forgotten just how spicy those gobstoppers were. Maybe eating a whole packet at a time wasn't exactly the best idea. She had to look up at the car roof to stop her eyes watering.  
Maker's breath.

“ _In the night I was awake for love, but I had no fear to break my heart  
In the night of burning summertimes  
When I had the life in.”_

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“What's the plan for tonight then?” Hawke asked, swapping one card for another. She had to fix her shitty hand soon to avoid the embarrassment of losing against Merrill.  
“Karaoke?” Merrill asked, Anders' ears practically pricking up at the suggestion.

Of course, Fenris groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, don't be like that, Elf!” Varric sighed, “No-one says _you_ have to sing.”  
“I know _that_ , I'm just worried about having to hear _her_ singing.” He pointed at Hawke, a look of disgust on his face. Well, there was always some sort of look of disgust on his face, but this one was worse than usual.  
“I'm not bad at singing!”  
“You're right.” Fenris agreed, his voice as flat as the cider she'd found at the back of Varric's cupboard, “You're not _bad._ You're terrible.”

The table seemed to agree with him as they broke out into muffled laughs and sniggers.

“Well, I don't suppose any of you have a better idea?”  
“I wouldn't mind karaoke tonight.” Isabela chipped in, “But either way, I'm heading to Chainz at 12.”  
“12!?” Bethany cried, “If that's when you're heading there, then when does it close?”  
“If you're friends with the owner then... never, really.”  
“Just stop talking, sis.” Carver moaned, “You're embarrassing me.”  
Hawke let out a loud laugh, slapping her thing with glee. “Says you!”  
Varric looked up over his hand of cards, “Shall we head out after this round then?”  
“Angel of Death anyway.” Isabela sighed, twirling the card in her fingers, “Show your hands and give your money to me!”

It wasn't even her turn, how did it get there?

  
  


Of course, The Hanged Man was packed, as it always was on a Friday night, but with some convincing (thanks to Varric) they managed to get a booth near the back. That way they were away from the worst of the noise and microphone feedback. Funny, Hawke and Varric had sat in that booth the day they met, hadn't they? Or at least, a booth very like it.

Drinks were ordered and the song book flipped thought, but it wasn't long before members of the group began to make their way from the table. Fenris and Anders were at the bar, making puppy-eyes at each other but infuriatingly saying nothing. Isabela was up at the bar too, except she was making friends with the regulars. Or more likely _networking_ , as she called it. Bethany was working her way through the Disney soundtracks, Merrill was speaking to the DJ and Carver was outside pretending to smoke and pretending to hate everything. So it was all the usual, really.

“I was wondering if...” Hawke leaned in and licked her lips, “...you're maybe up for another round?”  
Varric tilted his head towards her, swirling his drink in his glass, “I'm going to assume you're not talking about drinks.”

She giggled and batted her eyes seductively, taking advantage of the fact they were the only ones at the table at this point.

“Either.” She breathed into his ear, “The choice is yours, o paragon of manliness.”  
“Your place or mine then?” Varric sighed, trying (and failing) to act uninterested.  
“Your bed creaks less.”  
“I guess my place it is then.”  
“Who said I'm not in the mood to make the bed creak?”  
“Your place then. Wait, what about Sunshine and Junior?”  
“Shit, I always forget-”  
“What are you guys talking about?” Isabela smirked, sliding up beside them.  
“Nothing.” Hawke sighed, taking a drink and finding her glass empty.

_Shit._

Isabela narrowed her eyes, unconvinced.

“Okay, okay, you caught us.” Varric sighed, raising his hands, “You have to promise that it doesn't leave this table.”  
“You have my word.” Isabela smirked, her eyes glittering with mischief.  
“Well...” He paused for effect and leaned in, “We were talking about what we're going to do for Blondie's birthday.”

Hawke nodded, silently thanking the Maker for Varric's amazing bullshitting ability.

“Oh.” Isabela sighed, rolling her eyes, “I thought it would have been something a bit more... interesting.”  
“Like what?”  
“Oh, I don't know... maybe that you two have been fucking?”  
Hawke snorted loudly, unable to stop her eyes flickering over to him, “I wish.”

_I'm a very lucky girl indeed._

“So anyway,” Varric sighed, getting back to his bullshitting, “The plans for Blondie's birthday so far mostly revolved around-”  
“Fenris covered in icing.” Hawke quipped.  
“Ooooh, now _that's_ interesting!” Isabela cooed, eyes flicking over to the elf, who was now talking with the DJ.

It _was_ a rather nice mental image to have, but Hawke could think of nicer.

“Well, it's rather obvious that Anders likes him, I mean...” Hawke tilted her head towards Anders, who was standing at the bar, looking helplessly in Fenris' direction.  
“Poor guy.” Isabela sighed, lip twitching up into a smirk, “With the way he flirts he's more likely to get a slap than get laid.”  
“ _You've_ slept with him though.” Hawke pointed out.  
“That was years ago, back in Denerim.” She shrugged, “Wouldn't really recommend it, personally.”  
“What, Denerim or Anders?” Varric asked, his eyes glinting with mirth.  
She shrugged and took a drink, eyes flickering to the bar, growing wide, “Both, I guess.”  
“Well, I'm _sure_ that information will come in handy some day, Rivaini.”  
Isabela stood up and grabbed her drink.“Yes, and as fascinating as that information is, I'm going to have to top up my drink.”

And with that, she elegantly scampered to the bar.

“That was a rather quick exit.” Hawke noticed.  
“That's one of her regulars by the bar.”  
“Aah, that makes sense. Is there anyone in Kirkwall you don't know, though?”  
“Plenty. You probably don't know them though.” He smirked, his eyes gleaming. “Anyway, where were we...?”  
“Sex.”  
He let out a choked laugh, “Sometimes I forget how blunt you are...”  
“Well, I say we wait for everyone to head to Chainz and then we make our escape.”  
“So you're willing to miss out on Chainz?”  
“Hrm...” She pondered, holding out her palms, “Getting absolutely plastered at Chainz and get hit on by slimy strangers...” She raised one of her palms, imitating a scale, “Or sex with you...” She raised her other palm and screwed her face up, mocking thought, “I guess that is a pretty difficult decision.”  
“I'm flattered, I really am.”  
“And you should be!” She stood up in that seductive way that Isabela had taught her, or at least, she tried to, “I'm getting another drink. Want one?”  
“Whisky and coke if you don't mind.”  
“Coming right up!” She smirked, punctuated with a wink.

She noticed that Isabela kept giving her a look at the bar, but she was too tipsy to care. She couldn't have known, they were being really cool about it so she had no reason to worry.

Drinks in hand, she headed back to the table. Varric looked up from his phone and smiled. What a smile.

 _I really shouldn't have had those spicy wings._ She thought to herself, feeling her stomach churn as she placed the drinks down and scooted beside him, _Yeah, definitely a bad idea._

She took a sip and waited for Varric to take a drink before speaking.

“I was thinking that being tied down might-” Varric choked on his drink, but Hawke didn't miss a beat, “-be a good idea.”  
He looked a little stupefied, bless him. “Tied down... as in?”  
“Rope maybe? Although we'd have to make do with what you have at yours.”  
“That can-” He coughed again, shaking his head, “That can be arranged if you want.”

She smirked, taking a victory sip from her drink, watching her merry band of friends. As fun as it was, she really hoped everyone would get a hop on soon... so she could get a hop on Varric.

“You going to sing a song?” Varric asked, seemingly innocently. She knew him well enough to know that nothing he ever did was _innocent._  
“I thought no-one liked my singing.” She pouted, lowering her head, but looking at Varric with wide eyes.  
“Oh, don't let the broody elf get you down.”  
“Hrm... maybe I will then...” Her mouth curled up into a devilish smirk, but she didn't stop giving him puppy dog eyes, “And I think I know the song to sing too.”

She downed the rest of her drink in one go, wiped her mouth, uncrossed her legs and rose to her feet (with the help of the table). She then gave Varric a wink for good measure and made her way through the tables to the DJ, as if she hadn't done it a thousand times before.

  
  


“This song is dedicated to a certain somebody.” She giggled into the microphone, “I'm sure you know who you are.”

The music began with an upbeat drum riff and guitar. And probably a bass in there somewhere. The crowd didn't seem overly impressed that she was singing, but Hawke didn't care. She was in her element. She was on fire.

“ _All the clever things I should say to you  
They got stuck somewhere between me and you  
Oh, I'm nervous, I don't know what to do  
Light a cigarette  
I only smoke when I'm with you._

_Whoa!  
What the hell do I do that for?  
Whoa!  
You're just another guy!  
Whoa!  
Okay, you're kinda sexy, but you're not really special.”_

She bounced in time with the music. Well, as well as a drunk person could.

“ _But I won't mi~ind if you take me home,  
Come on, take me home.  
I won't mi~ind if you take off all your clothes,  
Come on, take them off!_

She took hold of the bottom of her shirt and gave it a small tug upwards, much to the approval of the crowd and annoyance of Carver, who had finally come back inside. He did an immediate u-turn and went straight back outside. Spoilsport.

“ _'Coz I like you so much better when you're naked,  
I like me so much better when you're naked.  
I like you so much better when you're naked,  
I like me so much better when you're naked, yeah!_

 _Woo!”_ She added, with a kick for good measure.

  
  


Just as expected, the group made their way to Chainz not long after Hawke's performance. Well, what little remained of the group at this point.

“I'm just going to have to head now, I'm shattered.” Hawke sighed, pretending to stifle a yawn.  
“Ugh, you're no fun anymore.” Isabela whined, hands on hips, but a twinkle in her eye showed that she was only joking.  
“I'll walk you home if you want.” Varric said, casually.  
“How gentlemanly of you.” She smiled, linking arms with him.

Oh yeah, they definitely had this deceit thing down to a T.

After waving the others goodbye, the two walked off and around a corner. Not even a second passed and she'd already grabbed Varric by the collar of his (terribly open) shirt, fell to her knees in front of him, pinning him against the wall with feverish kisses. He pulled her in even closer as their hands explored what seemed like every inch of each other's clothed body.

Had it _really_ only been days since the last time they'd indulged in each other's 'friendly' company? Maker, she was _desperate_.

“Fuck.” Hawke breathed, pulling away and wafting a hand to keep herself from overheating. The weather here really _was_ so much warmer than in Fereldan.  
“You can say that again.”  
“Fuck.” She giggled, suddenly realising just how high on alcohol, weed and life she was. And she _loved_ it. “Oh shit!” She whispered, “Is that Merrill?”

Without warning, she grabbed his hand, stumbled to her feet and ran, laughing madly. The street lights flew past like fireflies, the noises of the city blaring in their ears, dodging drunken strangers as they went. They must have made quite a scene, but she didn't care. She could have ran like that forever, but she was glad when they found themselves outside Varric's building, chest heaving with exhaustion and laughter. She watched him unlock the door, noticing how his hair caught the dim light, shining like liquid gold. But that was just _him. He_ was gold... or whatever that meant to her intoxicated mind.

Her drunken train of thought was interrupted by Varric's smirk, pushing the door open and sneaking a hand around her waist, pulling her in.

Once in the lobby, they managed to stop laughing long enough to unlock the door. By the time the door closed, though, their lips and bodies were pressed together and clothes being pulled off.

By the time they finally reached the bedroom, no clothes remained on their gleaming bodies and they wasted no time getting reacquainted.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“Your destination will be on the left in 100 yards.”  
“That's us basically here, I guess.” Varric sighed, turning the car onto a dirt road.

“Ooh, you didn't say there was a hill here, Varric!” Merrill chirrped, eyes glued to the window, “We could go hill walking!”  
“ _We_?” Isabela scoffed.  
“ _You_ can, maybe.” Fenris grunted, the first thing he'd said since the gas station incident.  
“Oh come on, Broody! Where's your love of the outdoors?”  
“Says you.” Fenris retorted.  
“Fair point.” He chuckled, “I'm a dwarf though. We're famous for never setting foot in the great outdoors.”

Everyone got out of the car, stretching their legs and looking about. The place itself was at the edge of a forest with a large hill (that looked awfully like a mountain) not so far off in the distance. Yeah, if Merrill was wanting to climb that, she'd probably be climbing it alone.

Hawke took a long breath of country air as she stepped out the car, her eyes closing, head tilted to the sun.

“It's almost like being back in Fereldan.” She sighed to herself.  
“If you ask me, there's not enough dog shit here.” Anders mused, “But you take what you can get, I suppose.”  
Merrill chipped in, “Fereldan's geography is quite different to this actually. Over here there's a lot less forests and because of that...” She looked around, realising no-one was listening, “S-sorry, I'll shut up now.”  
“Maybe save it for when we have more energy, Daisy. I'm sure geography is fascinating but...” He yawned and cracked his neck, “We're all a bit exhausted after Isabela's music... and dancing.”

He stretched his arms and Hawke definitely didn't look. Had his arm muscles gotten even bigger? Certainly seemed so.

Anyway, she set about getting her things out of the car. Poor Merrill, she must have been absolutely squashed.

“Is anyone good at putting up tents?” Varric asked. The group shrugged indifferently.  
“Does anyone know how to light a fire?” Hawke asked the more _important_ question. “I have a lighter. We just need some wood, right?”  
“I-I'll help!” Merrill cried out, waving her hands wildly, “You need to make a pit so the fire won't spread!”  
“What do we need then?”  
“Rocks and fire... and a bucket of water or sand if possible.”  
“I'll go look for some wood then.” Hawke sighed.  
“Why don't I join you, then?” Anders asked, bounding over.

That was Anders way of saying he wanted to spend the next few hours getting lost in a forest, looking for herbs, plants and slimes to make weird medicines out of.  
And that's exactly what he did.

“So much elfroot here.” Hawke sighed, tapping another root with her foot.  
“Yeah, I already have a tonne back home.”  
“You grow the stuff, don't you?”  
“Yeah...” he sighed, continuing to forage, “Hrm... spindleweed could be handy though, I guess.”  
“So, eh... How are things with Fenris?”  
“Same old, same old.”  
“Wait, so _that's_ what you two are usually like?”  
“Why are you so surprised?”  
She picked her words carefully. Or at least she tried to. “He looks like he wants to kill you half the time.”  
“That's just his face.” Anders laughed, “I thought you'd know that.”  
“Fair enough...”

He continued rummaging through the weeds, muttering to himself as he went.

“You know, I don't think I've seen you since... Aveline's wedding?”  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
“How've you been?”  
“The usual.” She suddenly gasped and pointed behind him, “Is that royal elfroot!?”  
“Where!?”  
“Over there!” She pointed in the general direction of a clearing. He ran off, taking care not to crush any plants as he went. Just as daft as Merrill, he was.

She sighed and picked up some more wood. Hooray, more twigs. A boring job, but better than being in any proximity to Varric. She couldn't look at him without feeling... anger? Hatred? Something, anyway. Emotions were weird. Hawke preferred to stick with happiness, hunger and lust. Kept things simple, you know?

“Can you not tell the difference between royal elfroot and Andraste's grace?” Anders cried out to her, scratching his head.  
“Sorry!” She yelled back, kicking a stone with her foot.

It flew off, narrowly avoiding Anders' oblivious head. Oops.

“Did you say something?” He asked, looking up from his foraging, his head exactly where the stone was not a second ago.  
“N-no! I eh... I'm going to head back to the others. Don't get lost!”  
“Yeah, yeah...” He sighed, walking over to her and piling her a mound of herbs on top of her heap of wood, “Could you put these somewhere safe for me?”

Hawke nodded and turned back towards camp.

“You're welcome...” She muttered.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Hawke let out a loud yawn and rubbed her eyes. Why was her room so bright? Lazily, she rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. But this wasn't _her_ ceiling. Turning her head, she could see Varric beside her, deep in dreamless sleep. His mouth was open and a wheezy snore filled the room. The cinnamon candle at the other side of the room was still burning, although it looked like it was on its last legs. Even still, it enshrouded the room in a fiery aroma. Nice. Spicy.

She turned again to reach a tired arm out to her phone to check the time. It was actually pretty early, not like her to wake up before noon when she didn't have work. She didn't remember falling asleep... Well, not in bed anyway. She kinda remembered watching a movie with Varric, sitting on the sofa together, his arm around her. It was... nice.

Maybe it would be nice to cuddle up to him again? Yeah, she figured it would, so she reached an arm out and cuddled into him, careful not to wake him. Once her rationality had woken up then she'd probably regret it, but was it really so bad for her to have a cuddle? It didn't _mean_ anything.

He was a furnace against her cool, goosebumped skin as she watched as his chest rise and fall, his heartbeat a steady rhythm. She hadn't even realised her own heart was racing. Fuck. She breathed in deeply, smelling leather, metal and chicken pie. That _was_ a good pie.

“Mmmhhh?” Varric moaned, causing Hawke to scramble back to the other side of the bed. He popped an eye open and smiled as if he'd just seen the most beautiful thing in the world. What was she thinking? Hah, of course she most beautiful thing in the world!

“Morning.” Hawke sighed, trying to sound casual, unsure if it worked.  
“Morning. Sleep well?”  
“It's a nice bed. Maybe I should have taken the invitation to stay the night before.” She moved closer to him once more and lay her head close to his, tempted to kiss him then and there. But no. Not yet.  
“Who knew that all it took to tempt you over was cheap wine and a cheesy movie?”  
“It was the pie that did it for me, actually. But what can I say? I'm easily pleased.” She rolled over onto her back, well aware that she was giving Varric an eyeful as she did so, “You didn't happen carry me to bed, did you?”  
“You refused to wake up once you were asleep and you always complain how sore your neck gets when you sleep on a sofa.” He chucked to himself, “I was just sparing my ears the torture.”  
“Well anyway...” She sighed, running a hand over his face, feeling his stubble. She hadn't felt it so long in a while. “Sleeping _is_ nice, but there _are_ better uses for a bed though, you know.”  
“Oh?” He smirked, his eyes darkening, “What could you possibly mean by that?”

She pushed her lips to his, feeling his stubble prickling her face. He opened his mouth, his tongue swirling in and Hawke followed suit. There was no pushing, no pulling, no grabbing this time, though. Their kisses were surprisingly soft, compared to... well, every other kiss they'd shared.

 _It must be because it's morning._ She told herself, _Yeah, that's why._

Varric brought his arm around her back and pulled her in closer. She could feel his skin against her, something hot and hard was pressing against her, making her stomach churn. For the first time, she wanted him to take his time, draw it out. She wanted him to touch her, explore her body, make her _his._ Slowly, almost tentatively, his other hand traced circles on her leg and hip.

“Do you have anything in particular you have in mind?” He whispered into her neck as sparks echoed throughout her body, his smooth voice a very welcome sound.

Should she tell him what she wanted? It was almost too tempting to let the words tumble from her mouth. But that would make things weird. And awkward. Fuck, why was she in her head so much again?

She felt his hands at either side of her face. She couldn't stare into his bliss-filled, honey-coloured eyes for too long or she'd forget what she was _here_ to do. And that wasn't to have feelings, that was for sure.

“Touch me.” She mumbled, her gaze lowering to his chest.  
“Where?”  
“A-anywhere.”

He smiled and kissed her once more, on her neck this time and she couldn't help but let a soft moan escape. A rogue hand of hers reached its way up and entwined its fingers with Varric's hair. His hot breath tickled her neck and sent shocks shooting all over her body.

A hand of his made its way back to her leg, his fingers brushing lightly, so lightly, over the soft skin. He may as well could have been writing sweet words with his fingertips on her skin. Her face grew hot as his teeth nibbled at her ear as the hand moved in closer, closer to the inside of her leg. There was nothing she could do but melt under his touch.

“You okay?” He asked.  
“Aahhhmmm... uhuhhh...” She mumbled, coherency out of the window. Yeah, her brain was well and truly frazzled. How was he getting her so unravelled by doing so little?

His hand traced its way between her legs to her lips, moving in soft, sweeping motions. She put her hand on his face, her arms already too weak and shaky to pull him in for another kiss, but he closed the gap anyway. She needed something... Something to hold on to to stop herself floating away. Somehow, she found Varric's other hand and squeezed it.

“D-do you want me to stop?” Varric asked, his hand already retreating.  
She shook her head as violently as she could, “Nooooo...” She moaned, “Keep... going...”

  
  


A little while later, the pair lay side by side, breathless, sweating and spent... but satisfied. _Very_ satisfied.

“Did you enjoy that?” Varric breathed, staring at the ceiling, still struggling to find his breath.  
“That was pretty good.” She smirked, trying to raise a shaky leg and failing so badly that no-one would have known that she'd tried.

She could see Varric's head turn to look at her, but she kept her gaze firmly on the ceiling. There was a very interesting stain up there. She wondered how it got there.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked, finally sitting up and cracking his neck, “Something to eat? Drink?”  
“Hmmm... some breakfast would be nice.”  
“I have some eggs and bacon.”  
“Oh, go on then. Make it a sandwich.” She smiled, stretching her arms and watching Varric wobble out of the room once he'd turned away.

The moment he was gone though, that bubble of bliss had been popped. She rolled over and peeped out of the window at the morning cityscape before her, her heart pounding through her ribcage. An upbeat song filtered through from the kitchen, but it was too distant to make it out.

What the fuck just happened? That wasn't just friends fucking... that was soft... gentle... caring. Those were words for laundry detergents, not sex!

“Do you want ketchup, Hawke?” Varric called through, shaking her from her panic.  
“Y-yeah, sure!” She shouted back.

She picked up her phone and checked the time. What the fuck, they'd been at it for over an hour... It only felt like ten, twenty minutes tops. Fuck fuck fuck, what the fuck?

She put her hands over her face and groaned, praying to whoever would listen that she wouldn't be sick. And who makes breakfast after something like that? That's something **couples** do.

 **This** wasn't what she'd planned. Feelings were NOT supposed to be involved. No, no feelings. Not that Hawke's feelings were involved. Not at all.

Her things were dotted around the room so she scrambled for them, forcing her wobbly, anxious body into her clothes, with some degree of difficulty. She had a quick look around, in case there was anything else of hers here. Thankfully, there wasn't. Then she put one foot in front of the other, took a deep breath and sauntered into the kitchen.

“Oh, didn't expect to see you up!” Varric said, a smile brimming from ear to ear, “Your sandwich is ready.”

He took a step towards her, his eyes shining in the morning light. A hand was making it's way towards her, as if he was going to kiss her.

_Oh no._

“I'll just take it to go.” She sighed, picking it up and taking an overenthusiastic bite, “I've been called into work.”  
“I thought you had Wednesdays off?” Varric asked, trying to hide the fact his face had fallen. Considering he was cheesing a minute ago, it was terribly obvious.  
“Not any more, it seems. And I'm already late.” She sighed, shoving her boots on, not even bothering with the laces, or to look Varric in the eye, “See you around!”  
“Y-you're welcome any time.”

And she scampered out of the flat and firmly closed the door before any more questions could be asked. Maybe closing it a little to firmly.

Yeah, it was much better that way.  
  
  


  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Hawke toddled back to camp with far too many logs, branches and twigs in her arms to count. And herbs. Good thing she worked out... last year. She'd _thought_ about exercising more often and Mother had always said that it was really the thought that counts.

“Aah, fantastic!” Merrill chirped, running over at the sight of her, “The fire pit is ready when you are!”  
“Who's going to light the fire?”

The group shrugged, somehow uninterested.

“I-I don't like lighting anything bigger than a candle.” Merrill replied.  
“I'll do it then.” Hawke sighed, dropping the wood from her aching arms and reaching for her lighter. She flicked it on and off, watching the flame with a smirk.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Varric raise an eyebrow.

_Yeah, I smoke now. You got a problem with that? Or are you going to judge me about_ _**that** _ _too?_

Three deep breaths later (fuck, she was really unfit), she helped Merrill arrange the logs and branches and lit a smaller twig. It took a moment to catch, but it was inexplicably satisfying to watch the wood darken and crackle under the heat. She didn't want to let go, but once the fire reached half way down the branch, she thought it time to get the real fire going. First try didn't go quite to plan and she had to start again with another twig.

 _Being a dragon would be really handy right now._ She thought to herself. It was a thought that she usually had many times a day, but now it was actually relevant.

Finally, it caught and Hawke stared into it, feeling calm as the fire spread to the other branches and logs.

_Maybe mother was right, maybe I am a bit of a pyromaniac._

With the fire up and running and thoroughly admired, she stood up, stretched out her tired arms and approached Isabela.

“My fair 'Bella, would you care for a smoke?”  
She looked up from her phone, “Sure.” She sighed, a frown on her face, probably due the bad mobile phone reception.

They trudged out towards the forest and Hawke quickly lit a cigarette, taking a long draw.

“You got any weed with you?” She breathed, letting the smoke escape from her lungs.  
“Merrill gave me some of her best stuff.”  
“Good, good.” Hawke smirked.  
“Saving it for later though.”

The two stood in silence for a moment. Isabela's brow furrowed as she took a smoke. She was going to say it, wasn't she?

“You know, I've barely seen you since...”  
“Aveline's wedding?” Hawke muttered, her guess proven true.  
“Fuck, has it really been that long?”  
“I guess so.”  
“Shit...” She ran a hand through her hair, “How've you been doing?”  
“The usual, really.”  
“It's weird at Chainz without you. You need to get your ass back over there once we're back.”  
“Yeah, yeah. I always mean to come out.”  
“What's stopping you?”

She shrugged, almost tempted to tell the truth. Whatever that was.

“Work. Satinalia's coming soon and it's my first one living alone. I swear it gets more expensive every year. But erm... yeah, sorry I've not been about.” She sighed and scratched her head, “Hooking up over an app is so much easier than in a club.”  
“Yeah, but there's something exciting about doing it the old fashioned way, don't you think?”  
Hawke shrugged her shoulders, “At least I can remember most of my hook ups that I _didn't_ meet at Chainz.”  
“Fair enough.”

Hawke took a deep, deep draw of her cigarette, avoiding Isabela's gaze.

“Congrats on your hook-up the other week by the way.” Isabela sighed, elbowing Hawke in the rib playfully.  
“Which one?”  
“That-” She motioned towards her ear, “Piercing guy.”  
“Oh yeah! Pictures _really_ didn't do him justice. I tried to count how many piercings he had...” She racked her brain, “I'm pretty sure he had his dick pierced too.”  
“Ooh, lucky you!” Isabela snorted, smoke coming out of her nose, “You know, there was a guy in Chainz the other week that you would have liked. I was tempted to give you his number.”  
“Why didn't you?”

Isabela shrugged, already taking another smoke. Hawke did the same, her eyes glancing back to camp.

_Stop looking at me, Varric. You're getting on my last nerve, you know._

“Have you ever...” Hawke paused to find the right wording. No need to show her hand. “I don't know, wanted to choke someone's brains out?”  
“Is this in a sexual way or just being angry?”  
“Eh... both?” She exhaled, trying to keep the image out of her head.  
“Oh yeah.” She sighed, her eyes glinting, probably with a memory, “I get that with Zev sometimes if he doesn't pull his weight at our place.” She took a draw, before furrowing her eyebrows, “Why?”  
“Just wondering if it was normal.”  
“Who's the person?”

She anticipated the question and took a draw before she could answer. Who could she say? Oh, right.

“Hugh.” She muttered.  
“Aah, makes sense. Still not over him?”

She shrugged and blew a raspberry.

“I think the others are seeing about food.” Isabela sighed, flicking her cigarette on the ground where Merrill couldn't see, “We should probably head over.”  
“Yeah, probably. Give me a sec.”  
She took a final draw and disposed of her cigarette and walked back to the group, her heart racing for some unknown reason. Probably because of the cigarette. Yeah, that was it.

The fire was still doing pretty well, but it needed a little more wood. Surprisingly, no-one seemed bothered about it so she guessed that was _her_ job for the night. Well, at least it gave her something to do. She sat beside the fire, poking it and seeing if the junk food wrappers would burn. Which was, in fact, very satisfying.

Once that got boring, she tried to join in the conversation the group was having, but it was about one of the many, many nights out that she'd missed.

“I _still_ can't believe you drunk that!” Anders laughed, cuddled into Fenris, who seemed to be tolerating him for now.  
“Hey, a bet is a bet.” Isabela shrugged. “Plus, it didn't taste half as bad as the drinks at The Hanged Man.”  
“Hey! I take offence to that!” Varric called out from the other side of camp.

It sounded awfully boring out of context (or maybe it was because she wasn't there to make it interesting), so she turned her attention back to the fire.

“Hawke?” Varric's voice shot through her brain as softly as a car crash. It took her a moment to realise he was standing on the other side of the fire. _Fuck_.  
“Yeah?” Hawke replied, suddenly noticing how interesting her fingernails were.  
“You've been looking at me like you have something to say.” _  
_“You must be imagining it.” She sighed, admiring her fingernails. Maker, she needed to cut them soon.  
“If you insist.”  
“Yes, I do.”

He shrugged, shaking his head, but he finally left her alone.

_Thank Andraste.  
Did Andraste ever go through something like this? I'm sure **she** would understand._

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


It was a perfect Saturday night. Glass of wine in one hand, TV remote in her other, flicking through the garbage channels for a guilty pleasure to watch. Oh, and a bar of chocolate resting on her thigh. Maker, she definitely needed it after the shitty few months (well, more like shitty life) that she'd had.

Her phone buzzed, taking her from the strange advert for a ludicrous Antivan TV show. Oh, those Antivans, what will they think up next? Of course, being the idiot that she was, she checked it without thinking.

_Hawke, are you avoiding me?_

She swallowed back down the lump in her throat. Of _course_ it would be him. Of course he'd stop trying to phone her and instead send her texts to make her feel bad. Shit, well, maybe she _was_ avoiding him a little, but so what?! He was far too much, far too... something. Anyway, could he not get the hint?

 _Maybe he's obsessed with me._ She thought, glancing down at the phone in her hand. Well, considering he'd been trying to speak to her almost every day since... Well, it was an explanation, at least. In fact, the more she thought about it, the less she wanted that to be true, because that would mean-

She took a deep breath, locked the phone and put it back on the table. Naah, she didn't have time for this. She had important things to do, like... something she couldn't quite think of yet. Oh yeah, watching crappy Antivan TV and drinking disgusting wine.

But of course, her phone buzzed again. And again. She wanted to turn her phone off and be done with it, but what if someone important needed her? As thrilling as the strangely subtitled show was, she couldn't help but look at the lock screen.

_Did I do something wrong?_

_Please be mature about this, Hawke._

Her chest certainly didn't feel tight. Why couldn't he just shut up? She was an adult! She had the right to stop talking to people as she wished. He couldn't force her to keep talking to him.

_I can't apologise if I don't know what I did wrong!_

He didn't know what he did wrong? Was he blind? Stupid? Or maybe he was just pretending to be? She downed her drink and poured another. Did he not realise that it was much, much better this way?

The cheap wine was doing nothing for her nerves and the shitty TV was only making her feel even shittier. To be honest, in this situation there was only one thing she could do. She picked her phone back up, her hands definitely not shaking and texted someone else instead.

_Hey, you out tonight?_

Maker help her liver.

  
  


Chainz was a safe place to go. Well, it wasn't safe – quite the opposite, really – but she knew certain people would never walk in here and that was good enough for her. Saturday nights were always the busiest and this was no exception. A wall of heat and despair welcomed her the moment she got in. Of course, Hawke would always say that she'd drink somewhere else if she had the money, but in reality Chainz was like a second home. Just with a lot more drunk people.

A familiar face sauntered through the crowd and shoved her way beside her at the bar, much to the distaste of the vulgar guy unsuccessfully trying to flirt with Hawke. No matter, he'd probably get what he wanted by the end of the night anyway. Yeah, it was one of _those_ nights.

“Fancy seeing you here.” She smirked, piercing glinting in the flashy lights. Isabela seemed to have a real knack for talking over club music.  
“Isabela? I think I'm in here by mistake,” She yelled over the pounding bass, “Do you know the way to the exit?”  
Isabela must have laughed, but it was inaudible over the DJ trying to rev up the crowd, “You never leave Chainz, you should know that by now!” She grabbed Hawke's hand and winked, “Come for a smoke.”

Holding hands was definitely necessary not to get separated as they made their way to the fire exit. It would be pointless trying to get out via the front door at this time of night. It was hard enough just getting in, let alone out then in _again_.

The night air was a little too sobering for her taste, but the heavy bass seeped through the open door and Hawke bounced in time, keeping warm. She regretted putting her jacket in the cloakroom, but if she hadn't then it probably would have been stolen by now, if not by a stranger then by Isabela.

Speaking of her, Isabela wasted no time lighting the joint and taking a draw.  
“Want some?”  
“What is it?”  
“Only Merrill's _finest_ herbs.”  
“Hand it over then.”  
“Give me a sec,” She sighed, taking another drag. Hawke couldn't help but be mesmerized by the smoke billowing it's way out of Isabela's mouth, “What brings you out then?”  
“Oh, you know, the usual.” She sighed, accepting the joint, “Boredom. Alcoholism. Hornyness.”

 _Fucking strangers to forget that Varric exists...._ She thought to herself, busying her mouth with the joint so she wouldn't accidentally let it slip through her loose lips.

“What about you?” Hawke exhaled, watching the smoke billow out of her mouth.  
“I'm actually here on _business_ , believe it or not.” She produced a pile of leaflets handily stored down her bra, “Work wants me to bring more people in. And I made sure I'd be paid for it this time too.”  
“For a second there I thought you meant it was for your _other_ job.”  
“Fuck no! Do you really think I'd go around handing out fliers for assassination services?”  
“Need I remind you, my fair 'Bella, that I'm pretty pissed right now.” She felt the first hit of the joint before the words had finished falling out her mouth, “And pretty stoned too.”  
“Fair enough.” She sighed, rolling her eyes.

Hawke took a draw, accidentally catching the taste of it on the back of her tongue, “Is that Chantry boy still hanging about your work?”  
“Oh, Sebby?” Hawke giggled at the nickname, “He hates it when I call him that. Yeah, he's still there. Unfortunately. I've tried to scare him off but he's still there every Thursday night, trying to offer people salvation in the face of the Maker. Does it not occur to him that a lap dance is so much better than... whatever it is the Maker offers?”  
“Mhmmm.” Hawke sighed, nodding. Living in sin was just too much fun.  
“I even offered him a free private dance if it meant he'd fuck off. He turned it down!”  
“Chantry boys are another level of weird.”  
“You're telling me.” She giggled.

Isabela's phone buzzed and she quickly tapped out a message and put it away.

“Not seen you at Wicked Grace nights in ages.” Isabela said, accepting the joint back and flicking the ash off in one graceful move, “They've basically become karaoke nights now.”  
“Work's been keeping me busy on Friday nights.”  
“That's shit.”  
“Uhuh.” She leaned against the wall, folding her arms for warmth, “I've been trying to swap shifts about for ages now but it's just not been working.”  
“Would a voucher for my work do anything in your favour?”  
“Probably not.” She snorted, images of her bosses receiving free pole dancing vouchers a welcome sight.  
“What about the rest of the time then? I've barely seen you about, not since that time-”  
“I've been... Hanging out with other people.”  
“Other people?” Isabela snorted, “Like who?”  
“Oi!” An unfamiliar voice called out.

They turned around to see a security guard at the door, arms folded and brow furrowed.

“I've told you before, Isabela, use the smoking area! Stop using the fire exits.”  
“Oh, you're no fun, Jason.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and handing the last of the joint to Hawke.

She took a few quick draws and flicked the remains onto the ground, scraping it with her foot for good measure.

“Ready to go?” Isabela asked, ignoring Jason's icy glare.  
“Club room?”  
“Always!” She smiled, taking Hawke's hand once more and leading her back inside, the door slamming shut behind them, thanks to Jason.

The muggy club air was a nostalgic slap in the face. Aah, that wonderful smell of bodily fluids seemed to have started early that night. At least it was warm inside, though.

“Since I've not seen you in ages, I feel I owe you a jug.” Isabela called back to her, a smirk on her lips.  
“You're too kind!”  
“Hah, don't remind me.” She retorted, distributing fliers and winks as she went.

They made it to the bar and pushed their way to the front. Of course, Isabela got served first, being on first name basis' with what seemed like all the staff there. There was definitely something rather satisfying about watching a cocktail jug being made.

“Hawke?”

She froze. Someone was calling her name. Right behind her. Her intoxicated mind could recognise the voice, but not the person that went with it and that was enough to get her very, very anxious.

_Shit shit shit shit shit._

“Hawke!”

She tried to dance into the crowd, to escape, but a hand tapped her shoulder. She steeled herself with a drink – no way was she drunk enough for this – and turned around, expecting the worst... but she was pleasantly surprised. Well, that was a bit of an understatement.

“Oh erm, Hugh, isn't it?!” She yelled over the obnoxiously loud music, a wave of relief washing over her, “Nice to see you outside of work.”  
“Yeah, same to you!” He had a nice smile. Warm. Slightly cheeky. “Would you mind if I bought you a drink?”  
“Go ahead! I'll have what you're having.”  
“I'm going to assume you don't want water.”  
“Water? Maker, no! What about some tequila shots?”

His lips curled into a smile and he raised an eyebrow. Nice. It was, y' know, a nice eyebrow.

“How many?” He asked, getting his wallet out.  
“How many can you handle?”  
“Four?”  
“You're on.” Her eyes narrowed in competition.

He turned his head to call over a bartender and she noticed a glimmer on his ear. Wait, he had a piercing? Was that always there?

A bartender quickly came over and set out too many shot glasses for a drunk Hawke to count. Isabela watched, clearly amused by the show. Hawke didn't even wait for all the shots to be poured, she downed each of them in a blink, but had to lunge for the cocktail jug to keep them down.

“I can see I've been defeated.” He sighed, holding his last shot, “Do you want this?”

She took it from his hand and dumped it in the jug. No use wasting a perfectly good drink.

“Thank you!” She smiled, with a rather audacious wink.  
“Would you care for a dance?”  
She shrugged her shoulders, glancing towards the floor, “Why not?”

Of course, the dance floor was packed, but Hawke knew a spot that people usually avoided. Not because there was usually sick on the floor, or anything. Her drink was quickly placed down on a nearby ledge and she began dancing.

Obviously, she couldn't copy Isabela's methods of dancing, they were Isabela's trademark (and it wasn't even worth trying if you didn't even have her sense of rhythm) but Hawke knew how to swing her hips and make her body move in a somewhat alluring way. So yeah, that was good enough.

With a flourish, she turned around to take a drink from her jug and felt a hand snake around her waist. She turned back around to see that it of course, belonged to Hugh. They locked eyes and she pulled him in, sharing a drunken, sloppy kiss. His hand found its way behind her head, pulling her in closer still and she could feel his stubble scratch her face. Maker, it'd been ages since someone had made her feel quite like this. Not since-

_Don't think about him._

She couldn't help but think how nice it was to kiss someone her own height. No faff of awkward angles or kneeling on the dirty ground or that.

When the song ended, so did the drunken embrace. She reached for the cocktail jug, offering him a straw.

“You know,” He said, his eyes meeting hers on the other side of the jug, “I don't just want a hook-up with you.”  
Her heart pounded, “Y-yeah?”  
“I haven't had the courage to say it sober but-” the music suddenly got louder and he was drowned out, completely oblivious to that fact.  
“I can't hear you!” She yelled, over-pronouncing the words.  
“I said,” He moved closer to her ear. It would have been almost romantic if he weren't screaming, “I want to take you out some time.”  
“Like a date?”  
“Yeah!”  
She bit her lip, “Well, uh, why not!” She smiled, tracing a finger under his stubbled chin, “Why don't we go get a pizza?”  
“Sure!”

She took his wrist and began leading him to the exit.

“Wait, do you mean now?”  
“Why not?” She shrugged, drinking her cocktail jug as quickly as she could without getting brain freeze, “I know a good place around the corner from here.”  
He chucked, shaking his head, “Not exactly what I had in mind but... if you insist.”  
“Yes, I insist!”

Good thing she was starving.

He smiled, taking Hawke's hand and letting her lead him outside. On her way she handed Isabela back the jug and gave her a wink, tongue poking out through her teeth. Isabela knew exactly what it meant and she gave the same wink back.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“Hawke?” She looked up from her daydream. She'd somehow spaced out while poking at the fire, but she came to to see Isabela holding out a bottle of cider, “You want some?”  
She shook her head, “No thanks. Not in the mood to drink tonight.”  
“I have some hot chocolate if you want some, Hawke.”  
“Oh, can I?” She accepted a cup, “Thanks, Merrill.”

It was some pretty fucking good hot chocolate.

In reality, she knew that sobriety was the only thing that was keeping her emotions at bay, suppressed and ignored. Any alcohol and she'd probably just snap. Like a twig. Or a shot of electricity. Or maybe fire. Yeah, something like that.

It would have been a lot easier if Varric wasn't constantly giving her a look. _That_ look. The one he would always do when he was trying to read someone and make notes in his head. And every time he did it her stomach would churn.

_Stop it stop it stop it stop it._

It was getting harder to ignore him, though. Her own thoughts were making it more and more difficult, but she couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. Wait, what was she thinking, of course it was a bad thing!

“Anyone up for a game of Wicked Grace?” Varric asked, already reaching for his deck.

The group nodded in approval. Even Hawke, to her own surprise. The cards were dealt and Hawke steeled herself with a long drink of her generous hot chocolate. She could almost pretend to herself that it _did_ have alcohol in it.

She picked up her hand and stifled a sigh. It was a pretty shitty hand. What had happened to her luck recently?

“Bets everyone?” Varric announced, his hand already in his pocket, reaching for his.  
“I fold.” She called out, putting her cards down. She could see Varric's surprised look out of the corner of his eye.

_Yeah, didn't see that coming,_ _**did** _ _ya?_

The rest of the group put in varying amounts of coin and the game truly began. They each took turns, placing down and picking up cards. Varric rubbed his stubble and furrowed his brow. Yep, he definitely had a good hand. Merrill, on the other hand, was smiling like a bird in a birdbath. Hawke's eyes wondered over to Isabela. Oh, _she_ was cheating. It was so obvious when she wasn't focusing on her own hand. Fenris was impossible to read, though. His face was still the same scowl as usual and Anders was... Anders was just Anders, half way through an inappropriate but hilarious joke.

Hawke stretched her legs out and watched the fire beside her. Sure, the group around her were sharing banter, stories, gossip, things that she'd missed out on the past few months, but something had changed in that time. She no longer felt _part_ of it. It was as if she had forfeited that when she decided to avoid Varric.

She'd missed him a lot more than she let herself think, though. Somehow, just hearing his voice, that tone he reserved only for storytelling, only for the finest of tales. Those smooth, low tones, the soft, uplifting melody of his laugh...

_Shit. What am I even thinking?_

Her face felt hot, she must have been to close to the fire, but she didn't want to move. It was comforting, despite the almost uncomfortable heat.

“Angel of Death, guys.” Isabela called out, producing the card.

The group sighed and showed their hands, one by one. For once Merrill's confidence hadn't been misplaced and she won the round.

“You're definitely getting better at this, Daisy.” Varric chuckled, watching her collect her spoils, “Next thing you know, Hawke will be asking you for tips.”  
“I'm not _that_ bad.” Hawke sighed, flicking her eyes over,  
“You folded.” Varric pointed out.  
“ _Aaaand?”_

He gave her a look, but he closed his mouth, released the breath he had been holding and shook his head.

“Who's up for another round?” He asked instead.  
“I'll stay out. I'm actually enjoying watching.”  
“Suit yourself. You're not allowed to help anyone though.” Isabela shot her a look, “And yes, Rivaini, that _does_ include you.”  
“Me!? Cheating!? Why, I would never!” She lifted a hand, only for a card to flutter out of her sleeve. She tried to snatch it back before it could be seen, but it was too late. Varric hand his hand out and silently, Isabela handed the card to him.

“That's not all, Rivaini.”  
“It is!”

Varric gave her another look and held his hand out further. Isabela sighed loudly.

“Fine, fine...” She put her hands in her sleeve and gave him another few cards.

Varric still didn't move.

“What do you want?”  
“ _All_ of them.”

She grit her teeth, but caved in and handed the cards from the pockets of her jeans.

“Are we quite done now?” She asked, exasperatedly.  
“I assume we are.” He went back to shuffling the cards, a smirk on his face.

Hawke shifted a little and lay down on her side, her back to the fire, still watching the game unfolding, her head propped up with her hand. The fire was almost burning her back now.

_I wonder if dragons ever feel too hot if they get too close to a fire. I bet not. How fucking bad-ass would it be to be a dragon!?_

“ _Turn around~”_  
She looked up to see the group focused on the card game in hand. The sly smirk on all their faces was the only thing that hinted there was anything out of the ordinary happening.  
 _“Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you never come around~.”  
_ Isabela was singing softly to herself, holding back a giggle.  
 _“Turn around~.”_

The group still took and replaced cards while Isabela sung. It was almost surreal.

“ _Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears~.”_  
“Oh ha ha. I know what you're doing.”  
 _“Turn around bright eyes~.”_ Anders joined in.  
“Are you trying to drive me to drinking? Because it's almost working.”

Somehow a smile creeped onto her face and the embarrassment and hilarity of the situation sunk in, her face burning even brighter.

“Stop it, guys!” Merrill quipped up, a sly smirk on her face, “We wouldn't want to make Hawke cry _again,_ would we?”

The group erupted into even more laughter, although Hawke was getting a little tired of it being at her expense. She decided to ignore it instead.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Hawke sat, scrolling through her social media feed, a cup of strong coffee in hand. It had been a long day dealing with people and all she wanted to do was curl up, alcohol in hand and forget all her problems. Unfortunately she had work tomorrow so alcohol was off the cards. At least Hugh was out for the evening.

Her media feed wasn't exactly very riveting tonight though.

Isabela. Mabari. Merrill. Fake news. Isabela's clevage. Dragons. Isabela. Zevran. Isabela and Zevran. Depressing news. More mabari. Fenris. Isabela. Varric-

She almost threw her phone to the other side of the room.

_No, no. I don't want to see his face. Not right now. Would it be weird to unfriend him?  
Shit, probably. He'd realise and things would get weird. Questions would be asked. Not that there's any reason to ask any in the first place._

A sound awfully like a lock turning came from towards the front door. Footsteps approached behind her and she snapped her head around to see Hugh standing in the door way, arms folded.

“I thought you were out.” She sighed into her coffee, wishing more than ever that it was something stronger.  
“Well I'm not any more, am I?” His voice boomed.  
She rolled her eyes, “What's rattled your chains this time then?”

He said nothing, only crossing the room.

“Well?” Hawke asked, “What is it?”  
“We need to talk. And you're not going to like me saying this.”

 _I don't like anything you say_ she almost said. But she didn't.  
“Is it true?” She asked instead.  
“Yes.”  
“Then spit it out, man!”

He took a deep breath and paused. She was pretty close to kicking him.

“It's not _me_ you're in love with, is it? _”_  
“Wha-” She stared at him for a long, long second before snorting and shaking her head, “Oh, don't be silly.”  
“ _Me_? Silly?”  
“Yeah, _you_!”  
“Says the one in complete denial.”  
“How did you even get this idea in that thick skull of yours?”

He didn't reply, instead he just paced back and forth.

“I know about the friends with benefits that you had going on with Varric.”

Her stomach flipped at the sound of his name. It was like that feeling when you walk downstairs and you miss a step, thinking for that split second that you might actually die.

_What the fuck has that got to do with anything?_

“A-and?” She rolled her eyes, “Well... that only happened once or twice.”  
“Once or-?” He let out an exasperated sigh, “It went on for months.”

She shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“So Varric told you all this, then?”  
“I asked him if anything had happened between you two, you know, being such good friends. He thought I should know.”  
She _specifically_ told him not to tell anyone and what does he do? “It didn't change anything.”  
“Oh, so you were in love with him _before_ you started sleeping with him?”

Something curdled in her stomach. A rage she hadn't felt in a long, long time rose within her.

“Fuck you...” She whispered.  
“What?”  
“I _said_ ,” She snarled, punctuated with a breath, “FUCK YOU!” She did her best to fight back tears threatening to break through as she rose to her feet, pulse racing. “How DARE you imply I have feelings for- for someone else!”  
“You're so deep in denial you're just drowning in bullshit.” He sneered, “If you _aren't_ in love with him then why have you been avoiding him?”  
“I've been busy! With you!”  
“Bullshit.”  
“It's not! Surely if I was in love with him then I _wouldn't_ have avoided him, _hmmm_? Maybe that's a thought!”  
“You've had a million opportunities to see him these past few months. You don't even go out with your friends any more in case he's there.”  
“That's not true! I've had work!”  
“Aah yes, those extra shifts you've taken on to have an excuse.”  
“Excuse me for needing more money for this place!” She growled, broadly gesturing around the room. Living separately from her siblings was really taking a toll on her expendable income. “And do I really have to explain my whole bloody life to you?”  
“At least be fucking honest for once. If not with me then with yourself!”

He took another step closer and a deep breath.

“ _Are_ you in love with-”  
“ **Don't** even say his name.” She took a sharp breath through her teeth, “Of fucking course I'm not!”  
He closed his eyes and raised his palms in defeat. “Then this isn't going to work. It wouldn't have worked anyway... I... I don't even know why I got my hopes up.”

Somehow she wasn't sad to see him gather his things and leave. She should have been, she knew that, but she wasn't. She _should_ have tried to stop him, convince him that it was in fact _him_ that she loved, but she didn't.

She felt nothing when the door slammed and nothing when she went out that night to find someone else to fill that hole.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“You know, I think it's time for us to head to bed, love.” Anders yawned exaggeratedly and threw an audacious wink over to Fenris.  
“Yes. Please excuse us.”  
“Have fun, boys!” Isabela cooed back, watching then walk into the car, “Lucky buggers getting to sleep in there.”  
“We pulled straws, Isabela. It was only fair!” Merrill sighed, “I think-” A huge yawn escaped before she could stifle it down. “I think I should go to sleep soon too.”  
“Oh, Kitten. _They_ aren't going to sleep!”  
“Oh. OH!” Her face blushed bright pink, “Well, I'm heading off anyway. Good night!”  
“Night.” The remaining group echoed.

Varric stood up and stretched his legs. Hawke didn't look, quite proud of that fact.

“I think I'm going to have a bit of a walk before bed.”  
“Have fun with that.” Isabela scoffed, turning to Hawke, “ _We,_ however, are going to do something much more fun.”

She produced a small box from her back pocket, took out a joint, lit it and took a drag.

“Want some?” She breathed, exhaling smoke like a dragon.  
“Sure.” Hawke sighed, never one to turn down an excuse to look like a dragon. She took a long draw, eyes closed. Maker, she needed something for her nerves.  
“Shit. This stuff is strong.”  
“That's why I don't share it with just anyone.”  
“I'm flattered.” She said with a smirk.  
“You should be.” Isabela smirked back.

She took another draw, thinking about what it would be like to be a dragon. It would be pretty fucking cool for one thing. Isabela set about grinding and rolling the next joint. She really was a true champ.

“So what's been going on then?” Isabela asked, accepting the joint back, the next one ready to go.  
“Don't know if you've heard, but I'm currently on a road trip. It's thrilling.”  
“Ha ha.” She laughed sarcastically, “That's not what I mean.”  
“Then what?”  
“You know, _life_. I feel like I barely see you any more.” She furrowed her brow as smoke flowed out of her nose, “I miss hanging with you. We all do, to be honest.”  
“What, even Fenris?”  
“He's never said, but he seemed happy when he found out you would be coming. Well, as happy as he can be. Shit, he even complemented your singing the other day.”  
“Oh.” Hawke said, taking in this new information.  
“And it's still weird hanging with Varric without you there. You two used to be inseparable.”  
“People change.”

Isabela sighed and took a long drag.

_Wait, did she just roll her eyes at me?_

“Are you ever going to tell me what's happened between you two?”  
“Nothing happened, I just...” _Shit shit shit shit._ “...Work's been keeping me busy. Been trying to save up for Satinalia. You know what it's like.”  
“Yeah, you said before. But what does work have to do with him?”

She could feel the first hit of the joint wash over her. Such a familiar feeling of being pushed into the ground and yet a weight lifting at the same time. Nice.

“Also...” She knew that this wouldn't have come out if she was sober, “I've been finding it hard to get over Hugh.”  
“Aah. I thought as much.”  
“I think all I need is a good shag and I'll be fine.”  
“That's my motto.” She took a draw before handing it over, “You know, Zev is always up for some fun. He's not too bad.”  
“Eh... not my type really.”  
“Oooh, you have a type now then?”  
“I-”  
“No, no, let me guess! Piercings? Muscles? Oh, you always seem to prefer guys with long hair.”  
“I don't really have a _type_ but I guess...” She let her intoxicated mind wander, “Those things _are_ nice.”  
“You certainly seem to like a bit of chunk on a guy.”

Hawke sniggered, smoke shooting out of her nose, stifling a cough. She'd smoked far too many times to let anyone think she'd caught it in the back of her throat.

“I guess you could say that.” She wheezed, her mind wandering to Varric. _He_ was definitely chunky.

The thought of him rolling his sleeves up his muscular arms popped into her head for absolutely no reason other than to torment her, it seemed.

_Fuck._

“How has work been?” She asked, desperate to keep her mind off him.  
“Same old, same old. You know how it is.” Isabela took a final draw before throwing the little remains into the fire and lighting another. “Did I tell you about that sugar daddy guy?”  
“No?”  
“Right, right. So I've just finished a routine on the pole and come down for a bit of a break.” She punctuated the story with a draw, “And this guy approaches me before I could make it to the break room.”  
“Mhm?”  
“And he says;” She lowered her voice for affect, “Have you ever considered dating an older man?”  
“So what did you say?”  
“I said I wasn't interested in dating. Then he said; 'What if I let you live a life or luxury and you'd never have to work again.'”

Hawke nodded, leaning in.

“And so _I_ said, 'Never working again? That would be my idea of hell!” She took a sip from her hipflask and handed it to Hawke, who refused, “You know me, I love my job! At least, my night job, anyway. So then he got offended, you know how guys are, acting as if I owed him something.” She rolled her eyes and sneered, “Ugh, men.”

Hawke nodded to that. Maybe it was time to seek the company of women... Nah, who was she kidding?

“So what happened next?”  
“I walked off and he followed. Tried to get into the break room. He quickly got chucked out. I saw him waiting for me after my shift. Got a lift from Zev and made sure he was banned.” She took another swig, “Idiot.”  
“I wish I had anything that interesting happen to me.” Hawke sighed, taking a long draw, deep in thought.  
Isabela snorted. “ _Maybe_ you should look for interesting things to happen.”  
“Maybe... Maybe I just need to get out more.”  
“I think you do.” Isabela shrugged looking out to the distance, “Well, on that depressing note, I think I'm going to head off to bed... A bed. No idea who's.”  
“Have... fun with that.” Hawke sighed. She knew Varric and Isabela were sharing a tent and the less she thought about it, the better.

Isabela threw back a wink and walked off before Hawke had even realised she still had half a joint in her hand. She'd had more than enough by now and she'd had more than enough memories and thoughts about Varric-

_Shit, Hawke. Get him out of your head!_

The fire was still roaring. Some warmth and comfort with all the others gone. After one final, savoured draw, she stubbed out the rest of the joint. Varric would probably be coming back soon and she'd need at least a little left of her mind not to fuck him there and then or sock him square in the jaw. Maybe it would be best to head to bed? She tried to get up, but that weed was definitely stronger than she thought. Fuck.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“Aveline!””  
“Hawke!”

Aveline looked up from her twitching hands, her eyebrows permanently an inch above their resting position.

“Enjoying the party? _Your_ party?” Hawke said.  
Aveline took a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room. “As much as I can, I guess.” She sighed.  
“Need your chief bridesmaid to get you anything?”  
“No, no... I'm just struggling to cope with all this attention.”  
“Want me to make an arse of myself to distract people from you?”

She stayed silent, but her lip twitched into a smirk.

“Don't worry,” Hawke sighed, “I'll wait until dessert at least. How about that?”  
She nodded, “Very well, if you _must_.”  
“You look lovely.” Hawke smiled, smoothening down a flyaway, “Donnic is a lucky man.” She had to blink a few times. Something in her eye. “Don't forget to enjoy yourself.”  
“You too. Not too much though.”

Hawke turned back around, her smile slowly fading. The room was crammed full of the couple's family and friends. How nice. Now to find Isabela. Her eyes scanning between the red rose centrepieces and fancy formal wear, but instead, her eyes met Varric's at the other side of the room. He was in conversation with someone, but he looked straight at her. A split second of his gloomy face was long enough. _Too_ long, even.

“You spoken to Aveline yet?” Isabela's voice came from behind.  
“Y-yeah,” Hawke snapped around, nodding, “You?”  
“No, but she's making me anxious just looking at her.”  
“I think she's doing pretty well, considering.”  
“Well, I'm sure I'm going to know the answer to this already, but are you still not speaking to Varric?”  
“I... yeah...” She nodded slowly.

_Wait, when did Isabela find out?_

“Thought so. The thing is, you're together on the seating plan.” Hawke clenched her jaw and her fists tightly, “See, I don't think Aveline got the memo.”  
“Please-”  
“No need to beg, sweetie. There's a space down at the bottom table. I've managed to do some seat swapping to solve your problem.”  
“Do I know anyone at that table though?”  
“Why would you need to? I put Varric down there. Don't worry, he knows everyone. He'll be fine. I'm sure Aveline would have caused a fuss if you weren't at her table for the meal.”  
“True, true...” She sighed a deep breath of relief, “I owe you one. Let me buy you a drink.”

Hawke bought a bottle of house wine and shared it with Isabela while waiting for dinner to arrive. Every where she looked, she could see romance. Red roses, happy couples, love hearts and promise. Even the mashed potatoes on her plate were shaped like a love heart. It must have been Donnic's doing, Aveline was never much one for fairytale romance. There was only one thing Hawke was good at doing when she felt unhappy, and that was drinking. So that's exactly what she did.

She stumbled her way to the toilets quickly, before speeches could be made. If one more person spoke of love and trust then she'd probably spontaneously combust. She made her way down the corridor to the bathroom, smiling weakly at those she passed by until-

“Varric.”

The name escaped her lips before she had even realised. It came out as a wheeze, as if someone had kicked the air out of her lungs.

“Hawke?”  
“Oh, hi Varric.” She forced a smile onto her numb lips, eyes darting in every-which direction. She didn't want to see his face. Not right now. Not ever. No.  
“Could I-”  
“You know, I really, _really_ need to get to the toilet. Which is...” She scuttled her way past him, “...why I'm, you know, on my _way_ to the toilet.”  
“O-of course. I just wanted to-”  
“Bye!”

She bolted through the door before she could hear the end of what he had to say. She hurtled herself into a stall, almost head first, and collapsed on the seat, fists and eyes clenched in equal measure.

_Why? Why, why, why, why? Why do I feel like this? Why do I allow myself to feel like this? Why does he_ _**make** _ _me feel like this?  
Fuck him and his... everything._

“That's it.” She mumbled to herself, wiping the waterfall forming in her eyes, “I'm getting absolutely smashed tonight.”

She didn't emerge for a good while. Just to make sure she'd missed all the soppy words. On her way back, she picked up another two bottles of wine. Hopefully it was almost time for the real party.

“Isabela!” She cried, coming crashing back, “What did I miss?”  
“All of the speeches. Dessert's coming in a minute though.”  
Hawke deposited the bottles on the table, “And before you say thank you, I have another favour to ask.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow, opening the bottle and pouring herself an almost overfull glass.

“I need you...” She lowered her voice and leaned in, “...to not let me near Varric tonight. Don't let him near me.” Her request was met with a confused look, “ _Please_?”  
“Sure, sure. Any reason why, or is this for the same reason that you've not been telling me?”  
“I'll explain later.” _Liar._ “But I'll buy you as much as I drink tonight... and I've got a feeling that's going to be heck of a lot.”  
“Say no more, Sweetie. I'll keep you away from him.”  
“And don't let anyone know about it.”  
“Not even Zev?”  
“Not even Zev.”  
“Fine, fine. You know I can't say no when you do your puppy eyes.”

She poured herself a glass and raised it.

“To getting absolutely shit-faced... The _Fereldan_ way!”  
“Hah, I'll drink to that!”

  
  


Another bottle of wine or two later, the tables had been cleared and a DJ set up. Aveline and Donnic had their first dance. Hawke had to keep her eyes on the wall behind them or the drink in her hand. It was _so_ great, _so_ lovely, _so_ wonderful that her friend had someone who looked at her like she was the most important person in the world. Because to him, she really was.

Hawke, on the other hand, couldn't even have someone like that if she tried. And Hugh was trying enough. Did she _really_ want that though? Someone to wake up beside every morning? To eat breakfast with? To love and be loved by? To share her life with? To risk heartbreak for?

The bottle in her hand held no answers and very little comfort.

What had it been now... almost three months since she'd last seen Varric for more than a passing second or hasty word? Even glimpses of his face brought back... confusing emotions. Anger. Lots of anger. Sadness. Hurt.

_Time for something stronger._

Three vodka shots and a free beer later, Hawke stumbled back to the dance floor, throwing messy shapes, a fake smile plastered on her face.

At least Varric stayed in his corner. He barely left his table except to go to the bar, thank the Maker. He seemed to have got the hint. Some sort of a hint. Maybe? She didn't really know what she was thinking any more. Her brain was a drunk, scrambled mess and that's exactly how she wanted it. She'd already thrown up once (tactically) and was on the verge of doing so again when an oh so familiar piano melody echoed through the speakers.

“ _Turn around.  
Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you never come around._  
 _Turn around.  
Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears.”_

Wasn't that just exactly how she felt though? She tried to wipe away the tears threatening to spill once more, but it was a losing battle.

“ _Turn around.  
Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by.”_

She thundered over to Isabela who was just back from the bar and pulled her to the dance floor, her shoulders heaving from the weight of her tears, the weight of the world and her problems. She could see Varric watching them and he could watch for all she cared. He could go fuck himself for all she cared. Or fuck her. No. Yes.

“ _Every now and then I fall apart!”_ Hawke screeched along, one arm around Isabela and the other clutching a fresh bottle of wine, nicked from a random table.

“ _And I need you now tonight. And I need you more than ever.”  
He_ wasn't getting out of her head, any time soon.  
 _“And if you only hold me tight”  
_ She wanted nothing more.  
 _“We'll be holding on forever. And we'll only be making it right, 'coz we'll never be wrong.”  
_ No, it was wrong, doomed from the start.  
 _“Together we can take it to the end of the night,  
your love is like a shadow on me all of the time.”  
_She couldn't escape him, no matter where she went.  
 _“I don't know what to do, I'm always in the dark. We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks!”  
_ What did that even mean? She'd never really thought about it before.

Merrill came over, gave her a hug and said something about Hugh.

Hugh? Ugh, why bother? He wasn't important. _He_ never was. He was a filler, a replacement. He was too clever for his own good. He could see right through her. Just like someone else. Maybe that's why she went for him.

_Look at him._ _**Him.** _ _Glistening away in the corner._

He was still watching her, his face looked sad. So sad. He looked exactly how she felt.

“ _Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart.”  
_ A few metres away. Not far at all.  
“ _Nothing I can say, a total eclipse of the heart.”  
_ She could make the best worst decision of her life again.

A firm hand grabbed her shoulder and lead her the other way. She had absolutely no body coordination and absolutely no choice.

“No.” Isabela's voice boomed, firmly, “You're not going over there. Let's go outside, have some air, maybe some weed or something.”

Hawke nodded feebly or at least, she thought she did. Her memories after that point got hazy except for being sick in a bush.

But Isabela must have kept true to her word though, because she didn't wake up in Varric's bed, as much as she may have wanted to pretend that she did.

It wasn't her own bed that she woke up in though.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


The flames licked the air, dancing and flickering in front of her. Heavy footsteps thudded behind her. It could only be one person.

_Maybe if I sit as still as possible then-_

“Hawke?”

_Shit._

“Mind if I join you?”

She shook her head, knowing full well it was a lie. Well, she wanted to see him, but she didn't. Her eyes were beginning to strain at the sight of the flames, but she knew it would be more uncomfortable to look at him. He didn't sit quite as close to the fire as she was, but her face burned hot as he sat beside her, closer than they'd been since...

_Fuck._

“It's pretty out here.” She sighed, desperate to keep some control of the conversation so it wouldn't steer to a more unfortunate direction. “I forgot how much I missed nature.”  
He nodded slowly in agreement, although his voice wasn't so sure, “It's nice.”  
“Nice.” She scoffed, perhaps a little too sharply, “I keep forgetting you're a city boy.”  
“Nature just isn't my thing.”  
She hummed in agreement, “Well, I guess if I didn't know that by now then there's no hope.”

There was a tense silence that fell between the two, punctuated only by the roar of the fire, while Hawke racked her brain for topics.

“I've missed you, you know.” Varric sighed, pulling her from her thoughts.  
“I bet.” She smirked, “I'm pretty fantastic in bed so I'm not really that surprised.”  
“I don't mean it like that. Although...” He tilted his head and Hawke couldn't help but steal a quick glimpse of his neck, “I must admit I miss that too.”  
“Yeah, well. I've been busy.”  
“Too busy at Aveline's wedding to even say hi?”  
“ _I_ was her chief bridesmaid, in case you forgot.”  
“And too busy drinking yourself into a blind, emotional stupor.”  
“Ha! Says you.” Her tone was unintentionally sharp, but she was already suppressing enough of her frustration. Any more and it may as well kill her. “Anyway, it was an important job! _Someone_ had to be the drunkest. I didn't want _you_ having that responsibility. I don't think you could have handled it.”  
“I may have been pissed, but at least I wasn't crying at every other song.”  
“Well, in case you hadn't heard, I had just broken up with Hugh.”  
“Who happens to be a friend of mine.”

_Is there honestly anyone he doesn't know?_

“Remind me to find a new social circle then.” She sneered.

Hawke had to stop herself twitching. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but kept her eyes steeled on the fire. She'd almost got used to the bright light and the pain.

“You know,” She spoke up, wrangling her emotions back into suppression, “I've always wondered what it would be like to be a dragon. It would be pretty fucking badass. Don't you think?”  
“...I guess?”  
“Think about it though, breathing fire!” She shuffled ever closer to the fire, know exactly how his face would look right now, “I bet if I was setting you on fire right now then you _would_ be impressed!”  
“I'm sure I would be.”

She scratched at her arms, the heat not quite so comfortable any more.

“You know, Hugh didn't want to tell me how it ended.” She could feel him watching her, “And neither have you.”  
“So you think you're somehow owed an explanation?” She scoffed.  
“I was simply making an observation. Maker, Hawke! You don't have to be so defensive.”  
“Wow, great observation skills there.” She scoffed, swallowing back another lump, the fire still too bright, too hot to deal with.

Maker, he was far too emotionally intelligent for his own good and she'd already given him way too much.

“Now we're going down this path of conversation, why don't I ask you about Bianca?” She heard him stop mid-breath, “How's she doing? How's her marriage going?”  
“Fine, fine. Forget I said anything.” He sighed and leaned forward and leaning his head on his fist, “But I know myself how hard break-ups can be. You're probably going to ignore this, but if you need to speak to anyone then I'm here.”  
“Naah, I'm good.” She mumbled quickly.  
“Fair enough.” His voice was unexpectedly soft.

Hawke had expected an argument. Most conversations ended that way nowadays. But Varric wasn't most people, was he?

“I'll bear that in mind though.” She sighed, looking at Varric. His face was scarred with remains of the fire left on her retinas but she could see his eyes staring straight back. Honey. Amber. Gold. Observing. Watching. _Caring._

_Oh, shit. What was I saying?_

She snapped her neck back to the fire and silence once again prevailed, at least until laughter could be heard from the car.

“As I was say-”  
“Y-you know, I'm thinking of getting a Mabari.” She rushed out the words as if they were burning her tongue.

He stared at her for a second before sighing exasperatedly.

“A-are you now?”  
“Yeah!”  
“Well-”  
“And I'd call it... I don't know... ehmm... Woofles!”  
“Woofles?”  
“Yeah! Nice name, don't you think?”  
“You're not letting me speak, you know.”

Her words died on her tongue and mouth clamped shut, exhaling deeply through her nose.

“So, as I was saying,” He sighed, turning his head away, “I miss you. And I don't think you've been busy enough to have missed so many opportunities. There's something else that's been keeping you away.”  
She sighed and closed her eyes, flames still flicking behind her eyelids, “Stop trying to read into everything, Varric.”  
“I'm a writer. It's what I do, Hawke.”

She flinched at the sound of her name and she prayed Varric didn't notice. Who was she kidding? Of course he noticed.

“Well, stop it.” She said firmly, “Don't even go there.”

The two sat in silence, the only sound being the fire, which Hawke was now prodding with a random stick. Hawke's lip was already bitten to shreds, but she didn't care.

“There's something that's happened, something going on that you've not been telling me. You've just not been yourself for months now.”

She shrugged her shoulders, biting her tongue to stop herself asking how _he'd_ know what she'd been like. The stick now very much on fire now, though. She hesitantly had to throw it into the fire before the flames could reach all the way up.

“When you first stopped talking to me I thought that it must have been me. _I_ must have done something to make you run a mile.”

She shrugged, her mouth still clamped shut.

“It took me a while to realise that I did nothing wrong.” He took a deep breath and continued, “I don't know about you, but it really hurt to lose my best friend.”  
“Oh, I have plenty of best friends.”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“You know you can't really be in denial forever.”  
“Wait, I can't!?” She laughed, the humour of the joke completely lost on Varric, “I'm not in denial, you know.”

She could feel Varric' glare. Charming.

“Be honest.”  
“Why is it always, 'be honest, Hawke.' but then as soon as I say something you don't like then it comes back to bite me.”  
“When have I ever done that?”  
She shrugged again, “What do you want me to say?”  
“You can start with telling me why you started avoiding me?”  
“I don't know, I just did? It was awkward, you know. I'd seen you naked-”  
“Oh, grow up!” He spat, “Maker's balls, this whole conversation is just going round and round in circles!”  
She growled, feeling her tight reign on her emotions slipping further yet. “Well, what do you want me to say then? That I can't even look at you without hating your guts?”

He stopped dead, his face dropped to the floor. Even out of the corner of her eyes, she could see he was heartbroken.

_Shit, shit, shit. Too far, Hawke. Way too far._

“What did-” _  
_“I'm just kidding, just kidding!” She laughed, “Shit, what's happened to my sense of humour?”  
“Maybe you lost it when we stopped hanging out.” He huffed, looking away.  
“Maybe.”

She could feel him shuffling beside her. He was about to come out with something else she didn't want to hear.

“You know,” He punctuated with a deep breath, “if it meant having your friendship back then I wouldn't have slept with you.” He sighed, before standing up and turning his back to her, “I don't want to lose you, I-I've tried my best to mend things between us, but if you can't act civil... or even mature, then...” He ran his hand through his hair and again, she stole a glimpse. Wait, was his hand shaking? “Shit, I don't know.”  
“When have I ever been civil?” She laughed, forcing her face muscles into something loosely described as a smile. More of a grimace, maybe.

He chuckled softly in response, but Hawke had never heard a laugh so... sad.

“Remember to put the fire out before you go to sleep.” Varric called back, before disappearing into his tent.

  
  


And then he was gone.

And Hawke was alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry.  
> Hawke is such a shit.
> 
> For the people who (no doubt) are wondering why Anders isn't like DA2 Anders, I've based him on what he was like in Awakening. No Justice = Awakening Anders.  
> In this Modern AU, magic, demons and shit don't exist in the same way they do in the games, but I'm planning a few more stories in this universe that will shed some light on it. I didn't want any of that to get in the way of the main focus of the story - and that was Hawke and Varric's... 'relationship'.
> 
> I feel so bad for Varric...  
> TT^TT
> 
> As I said before, this was originally intended as a oneshot, but naaaaaah. Next part should be up some time in February.
> 
> \- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
> 
> Edited 07/05/2018, so the fic is ready for chapter 3 to be up!


	2. The Author's Notes

“Well, what do you want me to say then?” Hawke snarled, viciously shrugging her shoulders, “That I can't even look at you without hating your guts?”

Varric stopped dead, his face dropped to the floor. A whack to the gut was the only way to describe how those words felt.

There was a second of silence while Varric took those words in. The crackling of the fire only served to heighten the tension, Hawke's eyes steeled on it, as if it was somehow going to make this whole thing easier. He forced himself to breathe as he tried to wheeze out a response.

“What did-” _  
_ “I'm just kidding, just kidding!” She laughed, looking shaken, “Shit, what's happened to my sense of humour?”  
“Maybe you lost it when we stopped hanging out.” He huffed, looking away.  
“Maybe.”

Why was he doing this? Why was he trying to salvage a friendship that Hawke obviously didn't give a shit about?

The knotting feeling in his stomach only strengthened as he sighed and stood up, turning his back to her. Looking at her was becoming unbearable much too quickly and his head was too much of a mess to repress whatever emotion was struggling to break free.

“If it meant having your friendship back then I wouldn't have slept with you.” He sighed deeply and inhaled through his nose, smelling alcohol, weed and burnt wood, “I don't want to lose you, but I-I've tried my best to mend things between us. And if you can't act civil... or even mature, then...” He ran his hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. “Shit, I don't know.”

He thought maybe, just maybe, she'd understand what he was saying. Maybe she'd realise that their friendship was more important than some made-up argument. Some pretend reason to avoid and demonize him.

But no.

Instead, she chuckled in response. “When have I ever been civil?”

He took a moment, letting the words sink in. Of course she'd say that. Of course she didn't care. Why did he even bother?

So that was it.

“Remember to put the fire out before you go to sleep.” He huffed back, his fingernails digging into his fists.

And with that, without letting himself look back, he trudged away from Hawke. Away from her bullshit. Away from her mind games. His mind still reeling with every step, trying and failing to make sense of what had just happened.

Sure, she'd been rude to him before, made excuses and insulted him. But that? That was unnecessary, spiteful and certainly not Hawke... or at least, the Hawke he _thought_ he knew.

The blank nothingness of dreamless sleep was the only thing he felt he had to look forward to. Exasperatedly, he took a deep breath, unclenched his fists and stumbled into his tent. Isabela looked up the moment he entered, the light of her phone screen glaring against the engulfing darkness of the tent. He didn't want to speak about what had just happened, but he knew he had to... sooner or later.

“So?” She asked, lying on top of her bedroll, a saucy smile on her face, “How did it go?”  
“I'm done with her.” He grunted, heaving himself onto the floor and rubbing his face.

A familiar feeling was beginning to course through him and it was taking every ounce of his energy not to cry. Was this what Hawke really wanted? To toy with his feelings and ruin his life?

“Wait, what? No, no, no!” Isabela smile faded in an instant and she sat bolt upright. “What happened?”  
“She made stupid excuses and stupid jokes.... and then she said she hated me. She tried to disguise it as a joke, but why would she joke about that? Why would _anyone_ joke about that? _”_  
“Oh, _Hawke_. I even gave her my best weed!” She groaned, running her hand through her hair.  
“I feel like she's treating all of this, everyone, the world like a fucking game and I'm done playing about!” He took a deep, deep breath, lowering his voice to a hiss, “And if she doesn't want me in her life then there's nothing I can do.”  
“But she _does_!” Isabela moaned, “I don't get why she's pretending she doesn't!”  
“Well, if she's going to act like that then I don't want her in _my_ life.”

Isabela opened her mouth to say something, but she must have thought otherwise.

“I'm going to try to get some sleep.” He grumbled, throwing off his shirt.  
“Do you want me to talk to her?”  
“No. Leave her. You may as well fucking talk to a brick wall.”

_At least a brick wall can't hate you._

With what little light there was, he stumbled to his bed, climbed inside his sleeping bag and closed his eyes. He just wanted to forget everything. Forget her. Forget how much it hurt.

But when had his mind ever been that kind?

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


A loud clank shattered through Varric's skull, jolting him awake.

“Fuck.” A rough voice croaked.

With some difficulty, he rolled in the direction of the noise and opened his eyes. It took him a moment to even remember who he was and what he was doing in the world. Even then, it was pretty obvious that he'd drunk a whole lot more last night than wise.

“Hawke?” He asked, rubbing his eyes in disbelief more than anything, “What are you doing?”

At the sound of his voice, her head snapped around to look at him, her face bright red. She'd stopped dead in her tracks, her belt still in her hand. It was amusing to see her looking as if she were a kid, caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

“I'm just, em... saving you the trouble of finding me naked in your bed.” She mumbled, her eyes darting around the room.

Varric couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the thought.

“My, eh, bra is missing so if you find it then I'd appreciate it if you could give it back.”

He was about to crack a joke or laugh or something. This was Hawke, when would that have ever happened? But his eyes darted down to his own body and-

Oh no. He was naked. _He_ was naked.

Shock swept over him as he scrambled for covers, for some decency, his heart already pounding through his chest. His hands felt numb. Endlessly, he racked his brain, but there was no memory of getting home last night... or anything that came after that. Attempting to swallow down his panic did nothing, but it didn't stop him from trying to hide it. Hawke didn't need to see that.

It took him a second to find his voice again.

“Shit, did we...?”  
“I assume so.” She sighed, casually.

_Oh shit. Oh fuck._

“I thought you'd been joking about, well...”  
“Wanting to fuck you?” A saucy smile spread over her face and her eyes twinkled. “What's that thing they say? Behind every joke is a needle of truth?”

With Hawke's daily butchering of a saying out of the way, he stretched and sat up, admiring the massive mess that was really to be expected with her around. Did Hawke even know the meaning of the word “cleanliness”? Probably not, to be honest. She may have known “tidy” at a push.

Speaking of Hawke, she started giggling.

“What?” He asked, her laughter only getting louder, “What is it?”  
“I hope you own a turtleneck.” She snorted, trying to smother the laughter with her hand.  
“I don't...” He reached up to feel his neck and had a horrifying realisation.

No. Hold on. Where did he put his phone? He scrambled for it in a fit of panic (as if he needed _more_ panic), using it as a mirror, only to see his fear come true. His neck was covered in love bites. Some were even turning purple. What in Maker's name did she do?

“Maker's breath, Hawke! Were you trying to eat me?”

Of course, she laughed even louder, slapping her thigh in glee. Mirth bubbled up from within him and he joined in, laughing away the niggling worry. Once the laughter faded away, she began putting her belt on and hunting for her boots.

No, he didn't want her to leave. Not yet.

“You know, you can stay a little longer if you want to.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, trying to distract her from the panic written all over his face, “I probably have tons of food left over from last night.”

She crossed her arms and Varric could see her breasts shifting under her t-shirt. Shit.

“For a second there I was beginning to think that you were trying to entice me back to bed.” She giggled, a roguish smirk still very much on her face.  
“Who says food has to be eaten at a table?” He smirked, surprising himself at the quick comeback.  
“Do you want anything?” She asked, already throwing her boots off.  
He shook his head, “I'm good for now.”

And so, she went off into the kitchen, leaving Varric alone with his thoughts. If there was ever a reason to panic, now would definitely be the time.

_What the fuck happened last night? I didn't think that I... that she would ever see me that way._

With her gone, he threw on some underwear and a bathrobe, picked up his phone and looked through the pictures for some sort of clue as to what had happened. His phone held no answers, which wasn't really much of a surprise. If anything, it just raised more questions. Why was there a shit-tonne of pictures of mabari and dragons saved to his phone?

He tried scrolling up, but no... just more pictures... There was a group selfie that he almost remembered Isabela taking. At least there was that. And how did Hawke always look so good in every picture? It was her smile. It had to be. Her smile was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful. Not even beautiful for a human. Beautiful. Full stop.

Part of him – albeit a very small part of him - wished he could remember it. He was curious, if nothing else; what it would be like to be with her, what she would look like, what she would feel like, what she would sound like. Well, it's not like he'd never wondered, never thought about what it would be like to-

But no, that would be crossing boundaries. _Important_ boundaries that were there to keep friendships safe. _Important_ friendships. And that was that.

The woman in question came back into the room, her mouth full of food. Even so, she was a sight to behold. That same part of him wished he could tell her that... but this was Hawke. _Hawke.  
_ She probably already knew how beautiful she was anyway.

She made a grotesque noise as if she was trying to say something, that was decidedly _not_ so beautiful.

“Pardon?” He snorted, looking up.

She paused for a moment to swallow her mouthful.

“Anything interesting?” She repeated.  
“I think you must have stolen my phone at some point.”  
“Varric dear, you wound me!” She cried comically, placing a hand to her under-dressed chest.  
“Who else would download...” He tried to count, but quickly gave up, “...hundreds of pictures of dragons and mabari?”

She pondered this, a quizzical look on her face as she took another bite of her food. The way her eyebrows would furrow when she was thinking deeply about something was definitely... something.

“You sure that's not _my_ phone?”

He wasn't sure if she was joking; it was hard to read the emotions of a person stuffing their face as if there was no tomorrow, but there was at least a 3 year age difference between their phone models.

“It may as well be now.” He mumbled, deleting as many pictures as he could so his phone could function again.  
“Any idea where mine is then?”  
“Your guess is as good as mine.” He sighed, looking around the room at the clothes strewn about the floor. There was really no point even trying to find anything in that. “Do you want me to phone it?”

Hawke nodded so he dialled the number and held it to his ear, out of habit.

“Hello?” A familiar voice spoke from the other end.  
“Oh shit, hi?” He cried, in panic.  
“Varric?” The strong voice spoke. Of course it was Aveline, why wouldn't it be?  
“Oh, hi Aveline!”  
“Is this Hawke's phone?”  
“Yeah, that _is_ Hawke's phone.”  
“Is she okay?”  
“She's fine, just wondering where her phone was.”  
“It's at the police station. Someone found it beside a large pile of sick. I _thought_ it was her's, especially considering the background was a picture of a dragon.”  
“So it's at the police station?”  
“Yes. Is she going to get it?”  
“Yeah, she'll come pick it up when she can.”  
“Thanks, Varric. How are you doing?”  
“Fine, fine. Just a bit hungover.”  
“That's good. I'm glad you looked after her last night.”

He had no memory to back up this new information. All it did was make him question his drunken life choices. So he'd intended to look after her and instead...? Well, if she hadn't been so unaffected by what had happened last night then he'd be drowning in guilt. Not that he already wasn't.

“She really should stop trying to drink like you.” Aveline continued, “I swear sometimes she forgets she's a human and not a dwarf.” He could hear her frustration over the phone, “But.. I need to get going anyway.”  
“Thanks for that, Aveline.”  
“No problem. Speak to you later.”  
“Bye.”

He almost threw the phone down, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

“So it was found on the street beside a pile of sick and handed into the station.” She snorted in response, amused as she always was by her own drunken antics. “Good night though?”  
“I have no idea.” She shrugged her shoulders, “The evening seemed pretty good from what I can remember though.”  
“Sounds about right. I mean, if you _did_ remember your birthday then it wouldn't have been spent right.”  
“Oh wait! I remember pre-drinks.” She contemplated for a moment, “We played never have I ever. And you...” She pointed to Varric and his stomach turned to ice. He pleaded internally for her not to say what he thought she would, “You said you hadn't been with a human before!”  
“Aah, shit. I hoped you'd forget that.”  
“How could I _possibly_? I'm honoured to have been the first human you've successfully enticed to bed.”  
“The only one I've tried to.”  
“Stop it!” She giggled, “No wait, don't!”  
“Aah yes, that's exactly what you need. An inflated ego.”  
“I already have one, in case you haven't noticed.”  
“Don't worry, I have.” He huffed.

She resumed shovelling the food into her mouth once more, yet her eyes kept wandering Varric's exposed chest. Surely, if _he_ could ignore Hawke's breasts that were far too visible under her t-shirt, then she should be able to do the the same for _his_ chest. But no. Her eyes kept flickering to him when she thought he didn't notice and pulling a strange face.

“If you take a picture it'll last longer.”  
“Huh?” She gasped, completely startled.  
“My chest. You're staring.”  
“Well I, eh, _would_ take a picture but unfortunately Aveline has my phone. So unfortunately for me,” She put a hand to her forehead and threw her head back dramatically, “I just _have_ to make do with the real thing. How very awful!”  
“What a shame.” He sighed, a smirk on his lips, “I _almost_ feel sorry for you.”

At least after that she stopped staring at him, but she still had that look on her face. It was as if she was about to say something.

So he waited. But knowing Hawke, he didn't have to wait long.

“You know...” She sighed in a way strangely alike to Isabela's means of flirting, “It's been far too long since I've had a good roll in the hay...” He opened his mouth, ready with a snarky comeback, “That I can remember, I mean.”

His eyebrows practically jumped off his face, before he could stop them. Wonderful, now he had to force himself to breathe too.

“Is this some sort of subtle hint?”  
“Maaaaybe?” She smiled and shifted slightly, her piercing blue eyes staring into his soul, “I mean... I guess I wouldn't mind another go.”

He looked her up and down, swallowing down his heartbeat. There was no uncertainty in her eyes, just a pair of very, very dilated pupils. If there was ever a time to re-establish boundaries in a friendship, now would certainly be the time.

 _Say no, Varric._ He chanted to himself in the safety of his own mind, _Just say no._

“What, now?” He blurted out instead.  
“Why not? They say there's no time like the present! Unless...” She glanced towards his phone, grappled in his hand for dear life, “there's something on your phone more interesting?”  
“I eh-” He practically threw his phone to the other side of the room, his brain going a mile a minute, “What would this be then?”

She shrugged, as if she'd never given it thought before. Of course she hadn't. It was him.

“Friends fucking?” She replied, “No strings attached, obviously.”  
“Obviously.” He repeated, swallowing down his emotions, his rationality.

It was no secret that he'd been hurt before. He knew it was a risk and it was a decision he shouldn't be making while hungover, while she was in front of him and not even properly dressed. But then again, he'd made too many decisions for other people's sake. And wasn't it Hawke that told him to be selfish every now and then?

_Fuck it._

Her face softened and she moved backwards, suddenly unsure of herself.

“I mean, if you don't want to then don't let me-”  
“No.” He said firmly, “I want to. This isn't going to get in the way of our friendship though?”  
“I promise. Well, unless you're absolutely terrible. Then I'll probably move back to Fereldan.”  
“Okay, okay.” He nodded slowly, a slight feeling of relief taking the edge of the adrenaline, “I'm probably going to regret this but... why not. I'm up for it.”

A massive grin spread over her face and she leaned in, her fringe falling over her big blue eyes, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. Maker's breath, he could barely believe how hot she looked right now. And she was close, _so_ close and only getting closer. Surely his heartbeat couldn't get any faster, any harder, and yet it was.

Maker, she was going to be the death of him one way or another.

But she didn't close the gap between their mouths, she instead reached a hand over to his chest, running her fingers up and down, feeling the expanse of hair. Why didn't he see it coming? Especially with all those jokes and jests about her wanting to run her hands through it... and now she finally was.

“How _did_ I know that was going to be the first thing you'd do?” He chuckled, watching her eyes flicker to his face and back down again.  
“I have absolutely no idea.”

The smile on her face faded into an intense look, her blue eyes boring into his soul. Was she having second thoughts? That was okay. Of course it was okay. Everything could still be salvaged. It could all go back to normal and they'd never speak of it again unless they were both pissed.

Shit, why did he let himself get his hopes up?

“You okay?” He asked, meeting her gaze, their faces only inches away from each other.  
“Never better.” She smirked and leaned in suddenly. She would have taken Varric off-balance if he hadn't been sitting down.

Her lips were so soft against his, softer than he'd ever imagined. She pushed her soft chest against his, his head spinning at her touch, and yet he wanted her closer, even closer to him. Without thinking, his hand found its way up her back to the back of her head, pulling her in, kissing her deeply, his tongue finding its way into her mouth. She moaned into him and he felt a pang of arousal.

Her hand was still resting on his chest, lowering its way to his stomach, but he only realised when it was too late. He suddenly tensed his stomach, but he tried to hide it.

“You okay?” Hawke breathed, ending the kiss.

He nodded, but he didn't want to look her in the eye. He knew she'd already realised. Her hand moved again the same way and he failed to stop himself from squeaking.

“My, my, Varric Tethras!” Hawke cooed, mischief twinkling in her eyes, “Are _you_ ticklish?”  
“A... bit.” He sighed, rolling his eyes.  
“Good to know!” She giggled, running a hand under his chin and pulling him in once more.

She kissed with more fervour this time, practically climbing on top of him and he – in turn – returned the intensity of the kiss.

Sure, he'd drunkenly imagined Hawke looming over him with a dirty gleam in her eye. It was no wonder his inebriated mind had imagined what it would be like to have her desperate for him, the thought taking him through many a lonely night, filled only with guilt afterwards, but the fantasy was nothing like the reality. This – _this -_ was so much better than he could have ever imagined. His rational mind still had whiplash, it still didn't seem real. Maybe he'd wake up and it would all be a dream. Somehow. As if he knew what a dream felt like. Maybe he'd been hauled into the fade, himself?

Even so, he didn't want this to end.

He could feel Hawke's nimble fingers tug at the belt of his robe, a low groan escaping from his lips . She drew back, a cheeky smile on her face as she looked down at his crotch. He didn't even have to look to know that his length was pushing against his underwear, begging to be released. It had been so long since he'd been with someone that he almost felt nervous. Her piercing blue eyes looked down at him as she licked her lips like a cat with the cream, which didn't really help keep his palms from sweating.

Thankfully, he managed to compose himself long enough to move his hand from her hair, down her back and under her t-shirt, slowly tracing over her stomach and up, up to her bare breasts underneath. She moaned in response, arching her back to his touch, pushing her chest against his hand.

“Fuck...” He moaned, reaching another hand up to join the first as his face flushed hot, his hair beginning to stick to his face.

  
  


Some time later, Varric breathed a heavy sigh and let himself fall on to the bed, sweating and his heart racing. His mind was a blurry mess as he felt the aftershocks of the orgasm ripple through his body. For a while it felt as if he'd never regain clarity in his mind, but he was eventually proven wrong.

“How was that?” He wheezed, looking over to see Hawke sitting on the edge of the bed. He already knew the answer to that, but he just wanted to be sure.  
She shot him a saucy look, a light blush scattered over her cheeks. “That was pretty fucking amazing, if I'm honest.”

Her body turned to him once more and he was reminded of the sheer beauty that she possessed. Not that he'd forgotten, of course. She really was a sight to behold, naked, running a hand through her raven hair as it glinted in the dim light, a wide and satisfied smile on her perfect face. And those legs. They may have been almost comically long (as with all humans), but they certainly had their uses.

He knew he shouldn't stare, but she didn't seem to mind him watching her as she stood up, stretched and – for the second time today – looked around the room for her clothes. But he couldn't stare forever. He had a reputation as a gentleman to upkeep, even if that reputation was also one of a scoundrel and a roguish liar.

“There's no rush to leave, you know.” He spoke, reaching for his phone.  
“I know, I just want to go home and have a shower. Plus the twins will be wondering if I'm still alive.”

She laughed to herself. Probably at the thought of Carver thinking her dead.

“Fair enough.” He sighed, finally back to some normal sort of heart rate.  
“I emm...” She paused, half way through putting her jeans on, the waistband around her shapely thighs, “I really wouldn't mind that happening again. You know, if you were, em, up for it.”  
“Well, you know you're always welcome here. This isn't going to change anything.”

She nodded, giving him a toothy grin before putting her top back on, still without her bra.

“So... what about the others?” He asked, his brain not quite screwed back in yet.  
“What about them?”  
“Are we telling them about this or...?”

She grimaced, inhaling through her teeth.

“We don't have to if you don't want to.” Varric blurted.  
“I'd rather skip Isabela's torment, if that's okay with you.”  
“That suits me just fine.”

He looked back down at his phone once more. Isabela had posted some pictures of last night on social media already. Still no memories of the night though.

“I'll see you around.” Hawke said, suddenly fully dressed and ready to go.

For a moment he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

“Don't eh, forget about Wicked Grace night.”  
She tilted her head, her eyes catching the sliver of light streaming in through the curtains, ablaze with blue. “Varric, you wound me! When have I ever forgot about Wicked Grace night?”  
He chucked, “That's a fair point. Shall I eh... see you to the door?”  
“No need. It's not like it's my first time here.” She threw him a final grin, “See you around!”

And with that she disappeared behind the door, the sound of another, heavier door closing coming soon after.

It was only then that what had happened began to sink in.

He had just had sex with Hawke.

Hawke, of all people.

Of course, the rational part of him wanted to regret what had happened, fill him with an oh so familiar guilt, but he couldn't. No, not when it had been the best thing to happen to him since... well, in a long time at least.

He had no plans for the day so first thing on the agenda would have to be a nap... on the couch. His bed was no longer very suitable to sleep on, even if that fact was a boost to his ego.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


That morning he woke after one of the worst nights sleep he'd had in a long time. Probably not since that one time he went to Chainz. His hands felt like sandpaper as he rubbed his eyes, looking around the tent. Isabela was still asleep, face down, limbs and hair sprawled everywhere, snoring loud enough to wake the whole Free Marches. Lucky her.

There was no point sitting about so he shoved the clothes on and checked the time. Just past 11. Not too bad.

As he made his way outside, he had to shield his tired eyes from the late morning sun. Only Merrill and Hawke were up, sitting by what remained of the fire pit. Hawke had her head turned away, but he knew she was already avoiding him as if he were the blight. At the sight of him though, Hawke mumbled something to Merrill, stood up and walked straight into the forest.

_Damn right you should be avoiding me._

“Good morning, Varric!” Merrill called out, waving madly. Yeah, she definitely slept well last night.  
“Morning, Daisy.” He sighed, forcing a smile on his face, “Want me to get breakfast started?”  
“Shouldn't we wait for the others?”  
“Rivaini looked like she won't be waking any time this age and Broody and Blondie will probably be happy spending the afternoon just the two of them.”  
“Well, can I help you then?”  
“I don't need any at the moment.” He sighed, rolling his sleeves and rummaging for the ingredients in the cool box, “I brought some vegan sausages for you, though.”  
“Oh, you really didn't have to!”  
“It's fine, Daisy. Couldn't have you feeling left out, could we?”  
She smiled brightly, “I guess not!”

Isabela made an appearance not long after that, looking rather dishevelled. If dishevelled meant dead.

“I smelled food.” She mumbled, an arm shielding her bloodshot eyes.  
“Of course you did.” He let out an empty chuckle, handing her a freshly made barbecued sausage sandwich, “Here's one fresh off the press.”  
“Thank you, you mother hen.”

He rolled his eyes at the nickname but threw another few sausages onto the grill, his eyes darting over to the car. They seemed awake in there, but by the looks of it they probably weren't going to be ready to come out for a while.

With a few more sandwiches passed about and eaten, he took a seat beside Isabela, unable to stop himself looking over to where Hawke had disappeared for the tenth time that minute.

“Hawke went into the forest over there a while ago,” He murmured to Isabela through gritted teeth, “Could you go check up on her?”  
“Sure, sure.” She sighed. running a hand through her mop of hair, only to get it stuck in the tangles.

With a grunt, she wobbled to her feet and made her way over, cursing alcohol and weed as she went.

Merrill roped him into a conversation about sausage dogs while waiting for Isabela and Hawke or Anders and Fenris to emerge. He was almost tempted to make a bet, but Merrill was never one for betting. Unless it was on a game of Wicked Grace.

Fenris and Anders eventually emerged, looking even more dishevelled than Isabela. He didn't want to be bitter about them being happy together, he'd never felt bitter about his friends finding happiness before, so he bit his tongue and offered them some sausages. They deserved each other and that was that.

Isabela appeared not long after that, but she was by herself. She sat beside Varric looking a little miffed, to say the least.

“Hawke's gone home, she said she wasn't feeling well.” She announced, sitting back on the ground with a thud.  
“She did say she felt a little sick earlier.” Merrill added, looking downcast, “I didn't think she looked that bad, but I guess it was worse than it seemed.”  
“How's she getting home?” Fenris asked, finishing off the last of his sandwich.  
“She walked until she found phone signal and...” She shrugged with a strange look on her face, “She pestered Carver into giving her a lift.”

_Of course she did._

“It's a shame she had to go home, I was looking forward to spending more time with her.” Merrill sighed, looking sadly at her sandwich, as if it was going to give her the comfort she needed. “She's always so busy nowadays.”  
Anders didn't quite look convinced though, “She was so ill that she couldn't even say goodbye?”  
Isabela shrugged. “I'm sure we can arrange something once we're all home. Something that Hawke can't refuse.” Isabela lied, patting a very sad Merrill on the back.  
“I hope so.”  
“I hope she's okay.” Fenris mumbled.  
Isabela sighed deeply, “I'm sure she is.”

The group sat in silence until Varric eventually stood up to cook even more sausages. No-one needed any more food cooked, no-one had asked for it, but he did it anyway. For his sake.

“Well, I know what'll cheer you up!” Isabela quipped, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow and producing one of her dirty magazines from Maker knows where.

He didn't quite see how that would help, but he decided to go along with it for now.

“What's your star sign then?”  
“Horoscopes?”  
“ _Dirty_ horoscopes! You're a... gemini, aren't you?”  
“Yes.” He sighed.  
“Right, so...” She cleared her throat and did her best to sound serious, “As the moon moves into your orbit, your sexual powers will make you irresistible to anyone you have your eye on.” She stifled a snort, “Looking for love? Life could get steamy when someone you fancy crosses your path. With romantic energy at peak, you're ready to try a new sexual adventure. But take your time – satisfaction comes from a slow, sexy smoulder.”  
“What the fuck was that? Did you make that up?”  
“No.” She giggled, flicking through the rest of the magazine, flashes of nudity flying before his eyes.  
“Let me see.”  
“No! It's much, _much_ too dirty for innocent old you.”  
“Really? Me?” A smile crept onto his lips.  
“You give Merrill a run for her money.”  
“What did I do?” Merrill cried, looking up from her book, her eyebrows darting up in shock.  
“Nothing, kitten. You're perfect.”  
“Oh!” She beamed, her cheeks turning aflame, “Thank you!”  
“So.” Isabela smiled, “Shall we play a game of wicked grace?”

Somehow she already had his pack in her hand, shuffling the cards in preparation. Well, when did he ever say no to a game or two?

“Oh, go on then.” He sighed, realising that maybe he was maybe in higher spirits than he thought.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“I am having the shittiest day.” Hawke sighed.

Varric could easily hear her frustration through the phone. And her munching on her lunch. Probably a sandwich.

“Feel free to come over tonight.” He sighed, trying to sound casual.  
“Ugh.” She moaned, “That would be nice but I'm just... too tired for a fuck today.”  
“I didn't say anything about _that_. I'm half way through making a pie that's big enough for two.”

That wasn't exactly a coincidence, but she didn't need to know that. She was silent for a moment except the sound of her chewing.

“What kind?”  
“Chicken. It's a Fereldan recipe. And I've got some wine here too if that helps to tempt you.”  
“Well, how could I say no to that?” She sighed, “Are you in all day?”  
“I'm going to the gym in a bit, but I'll be back before you finish work.”  
“I'll be there usual time then. See ya!”  
“See you then.”

He put the phone down, unable to stop a big grin from spreading over his face. _Now_ he had the motivation to get this damned chapter finished.

  
  


True to her word, Hawke came crashing through the door a few hours later, immediately dumping her things on the floor and flinging herself onto the couch with an overly dramatic sigh. To be honest, he wouldn't have expected anything different from her at this point.

“Good timing.” Varric shouted through from the kitchen, taking the pie out and admiring his handiwork. It was a _damn_ good pie. “Do you want me to bring dinner through for you?”  
“Sure. What are we having with it?”  
“Fries and baked beans.”  
“Oh, so have I converted you to Fereldan food then?”  
“It's not as bad as a lot of people seem to make it out to be.” He said, bringing through two plates piled high with food.  
“I'll take that.” She smirked, her face lighting up at the sight of the pie, “So where's this wine you were telling me about?”  
“I was distracted by my pie. I'm terribly sorry, Sweetheart.”

It was only when he was back in the kitchen that he realised the slip up. Shit. It was a stab to the chest with a blade of unnecessary anxiety. That wasn't supposed to happen. That nickname wasn't supposed to worm its way out. Sure, he'd called her that many times in the safety of his own head, but never out loud.

With some sort of calm regained, he came back through and handed Hawke the wine. He prayed that she hadn't noticed the slip up, but she was already tucking into her pie, accepting the glass with a wink. If she _had_ noticed then she hadn't minded.

Thank the Maker.

When he picked up the remote and put a cheesy movie on, her eyes rolled to the back of her head. He knew she secretly loved them though, thanks to their brazenly honest drunken late night talks.

Unsurprisingly, the pie went down a treat and the plates were soon shoved out the way, a problem for future Varric to deal with. Hawke shuffled a little, getting comfortable, moving bit by bit closer to him, their shoulders eventually leaning against each other. It was a start at least.

A few minutes later, Hawke let out a smothered giggle at a terrible joke, her shoulders shaking as she struggled to keep it in, her stifled laugh filling him with more mirth than he'd felt in a long time.

In his head he prayed to all the divine beings he could think of, the Maker, Andraste, the Ancestors, and even the Creators, hoping that she would shuffle even a little closer. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her eyes flickering towards him and – from what he could tell – a wistful look on her face. It was time for some desperate action. Disguising it as a stretch, he moved his hand behind her neck on the back of the sofa, the oldest trick in the book, but it worked!

Her eyes flickered over to his as she moved closer still, bringing her knees up and shuffling down to be more his height. Hesitantly, her head leaned into the crevice of his arm and Varric had to force himself to keep breathing normally. Hopefully she couldn't tell how fast his heart was beating. She opened her mouth for a moment, as if she was about to say something, but then she closed it again, shaking her head which only proved to nuzzle closer to him.

The longer the movie went on, the closer the two got and the hotter Varric's face grew. He managed to get his other hand on Hawke's lap, her hand on his, her head resting on his chest. Finally, Varric had Hawke in his arms for reasons other than sex. Getting his hopes up at this point may be a risk but... maybe that meant something. Maybe it didn't, but maybe it did?

He focused on the movie, not quite enjoying it as much as Hawke seemed to be, especially due to the unforgivably bad jokes. But that was just Hawke's sense of humour.

A small snore came from Hawke and Varric had to stop himself laughing. She wasn't lying, she must have been exhausted. It was only just past 8.

She nuzzled into him, a hand joining her head on his chest and Varric felt so happy he could cry. He almost did, but that wouldn't exactly be a good idea at this point.

Maybe once Hawke woke up he'd speak to her. Be honest. Feelings _weren't_ supposed to get involved, but maybe... maybe if she felt the same then they wouldn't be a bad thing, surely? If not then he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. And anyway, they'd both promised nothing would happen to their friendship no matter what, so at least there was that.

There wasn't much point watching the rest of the film when he was only watching it for Hawke's sake so he turned it off. Waking up Hawke proved impossible. Typical. Awkwardly shuffling out from beside her, he considered his options. Either let Hawke sleep on the couch and probably never hear the end of her complaining or... carry her to bed and share a bed for the night. They'd shared a bed once or twice before, not just in a sexual way. Granted, she'd been drunk, but he doubted she was completely sober right now, considering half of the wine in the bottle had mysteriously disappeared.

With some difficulty, he hauled her up and carried her to his bedroom, and placed her in his bed. She groaned, stirring a little, but she soon settled down. Her face was a picture, though. Her mouth was parted as she took slow, deep breaths. Her cheeks rosy, raven hair falling all over her face and that scar over her nose that she always covered with makeup (for some reason) was showing through. There was no denying that she was beautiful. As nice as it was to stare though, he had to look away and clean up the rest of dinner.

But if this was what his evenings could become, what their life could be together then... maybe it _would_ be worth trying. He'd sworn again and again never to let himself fall in love with anyone, but Hawke _wasn't_ just anyone. Surely _she_ wouldn't hurt him, not like Bianca had. Sure, It was a risk to their friendship, but this wasn't an opportunity he wanted to miss.

After brushing his teeth and getting changed, he shuffled into bed beside her, planted a soft kiss on her shoulder. Then he turned over and drifted into dreamless sleep thinking about all the ways he could tell her.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Varric pushed his way through the door and threw off his shoes. What a weekend. Sure, it was good to spend some quality time with his friends, but Hawke had just put a dampener on it with her bloody attitude.

His phone had been buzzing non-stop since they got into Kirkwall, but since he'd been dropping everyone off, he hadn't been able to check it. The road trip had meant that he'd gone the last few days without phone signal or internet so he was finally able to sift through the numerous notifications and messages that had mounted up since leaving the city.

The first thing he saw when he opened up social media was... Hawke. She was at Chainz, no doubt, clinging onto yet another stranger. She looked completely out of it, her eyes half open and a sloppy grin on her face. Was she intent on ruining her life with pointless vices or was she just doing it to spite him? Either way, the picture made him sick just looking at it and he had to scroll down. But wait, there was more! More pictures of a barely concious Hawke entwined with random people. Of course their was.

Maybe he'd leave looking at his phone until later. Or... maybe never.

It was almost dinner time, so he decided to cook something. Pasta maybe. Sure, he'd cooked over the weekend, but it was never the same when he wasn't in his own kitchen. And he decided to have a beer, too. He needed something to take the edge off.

He was half way through cutting some onions when his phone buzzed on the counter., his eyes flickering over. A text from an unknown number? Strange. Curiously, if not a little hesitantly, he unlocked the phone and had a look.

_Hey, this is Bianca._

He froze. Was this some sort of joke? Could Hawke really stoop so low? Reading the message was horribly like setting his eyeballs on fire (or maybe that was just the onions), but sooner or later his curiosity got the better of him and he continued reading.

_I understand if you don't want to speak to me, but I'll be visiting Kirkwall in a few weeks. Let me know if you want to meet up. I'd really appreciate it._

This... actually seemed genuine. Maybe not the sentiment behind it, but it definitely seemed to be Bianca. He wasn't going to give her the time of day though. No, he'd had enough of her. If she was happy to go without speaking to him for years then he was more than happy to do the same to her. And Hawke too. If anyone deserved to be ignored then it was those two.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


His Saturday nights all seemed the same without Hawke. How long had it been now? A month? It was honestly one of the longest months in his life.

He tried – for the fifth time that day – to read a book, but he couldn't focus on the words, his own thoughts were much too loud. So he snapped it shut, without bothering with a book mark. He tried the TV, but there was nothing on apart from those awful dating shows. Another way of making him feel like shit. He couldn't cook, either. He'd used up all of his edible ingredients, both his fridge and freezer full of home made food that he didn't feel like eating. Going to the gym would mean putting on a smile and interacting with people, two things Varric definitely did _not_ want to do right now.

So he just sat in a daze, confused and twiddling his thumbs.

What in the name of the Maker _was_ Hawke doing? No contact. No nothing. Refusing to open her door to him, practically running from him in public. Refusing to even phone or send a text. Not knowing was the hardest part. Did he do something? Say something? Maybe he wasn't good enough for her. He'd always wondered why she went for him. She could have had the same arrangement with almost anyone... but then again, he _did_ always shy away from asking if she was seeing anyone else.

But a month of this? It was really taking its toll on him now. He couldn't hold back any more. Somehow he found his phone in his hand, staring at Hawke's name on the screen, his fingers ready to type.

_Hawke, are you avoiding me?_

Maker, he _knew_ he shouldn't have sent it, but at least he could tell himself he was trying. The message whizzed away and Varric let out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding. His phone was half way back on the couch when he saw a little _“seen”_ icon at the bottom of the screen. He had her now! He tapped away as quickly as he could.

_Did I do something wrong?  
Please be mature about this, Hawke.  
I can't apologise if I don't know what I did wrong!_

Still no reply and it was no longer saying she'd seen his messages. Typical. Why did he let himself hope? His phone buzzed soon after with another message from Rivaini though.

 _Hey, Hawke's coming to Chainz.  
Good for her. _ He typed back.  
_If you're desperate to see her then you could come.  
I'm not that desperate. _ He tapped out, his finger hesitating over the _send_ button.

 _Yet._ He thought to himself, holding his fingers back from typing the word. No, he wasn't going to get that desperate.

  
  


A few weeks later there was a knock at the door while he was getting his dinner ready. Strange, he wasn't expecting anyone. He _knew_ well enough that he shouldn't get his hopes up, but that didn't stop him. His heart pounded with a strangely familiar feeling as he jogged to the door to open it.

“Oh, hi Hugh.” He sighed, feeling his face fall.  
“Hi Varric. Mind if I speak to you?”  
“Oh, sure!” He motioned inside, “What brings you here?”  
“It's... about Hawke.”

He forced himself to keep breathing, not to choke on his own spit. Ah yes, of course it was about her. Everything always was, nowadays.

“What about her?”  
“She's... I don't really know how to say it.” They sat on the couch beside each other, “I feel like she's only playing along with me.”  
“Playing along with you? What do you mean?”  
“Did you not know we were together? Did Hawke not say?”  
“I've not heard from her in months now.” He forced out the words. Why didn't he know this before?  
“That's strange.” Hugh murmured, “I thought maybe you could help me with our relationship.”  
“Well, she's a strange one when it comes to things like that.”  
Hugh's eyebrows raised, “And if you don't mind me asking, how would you know?”  
“Maker...” He sighed, feeling his shoulders tense, “She's not going to like me telling you this but you deserve to know.”

Hugh sat forward, listening intently. If he wasn't about to rip his heart from his chest then maybe he would be enjoying the fact he was telling a story to a friend.

“She and I had a... well, friends with benefits thing going on not long back. It went on for a few months until she practically ran out the door after staying the night and has been ignoring me since. No explanation. Not even a text.”  
“Somehow I'm not surprised.” Hugh muttered, looking despondent, hopeless even, “She tells me she loves me, but I've never _felt_ it. Every time we've been intimate, she's had her eyes clenched shut as much as possible. And when we're, you know, together, she's always silent, never allowing herself to make noise, but always mouthing things I can't quite understand. Or maybe I just don't want to understand.” He slumped even further down on the couch, “I don't think it's _me_ that she's wishing she's having sex with.”

Varric forced his throat to swallow down whatever ugly emotion was rearing its head right now. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two for a moment.

“What was she like with you?” Hugh asked, looking him straight in the eye, “I mean, if you don't mind me asking.”

He'd spent the past month trying to rid those memories from his mind. Dragging them back up felt cruel, but it had to be done. Of course he minded, but he couldn't just leave Hugh not knowing.

“At first it was feverish, like all she was doing was quenching a thirst, but she was always pretty vocal. She started getting more gentle though,” He pushed the memories back to stop them from becoming flashbacks, “And she became passionate too. She'd look at me with this look...” he'd said more than he intended, but his heart didn't want to forget.  
“What look?”  
“Like she was about to burst out crying. And it was always when she thought I wasn't looking or wouldn't notice.”

Hugh nodded, looking more despondent than ever. Poor guy.

“I-I think that's all I need to know.” Hugh sighed, rising to his feet.  
“I hope it can work out with you two.”  
“I feel like we're beyond hope. But thank you.”  
“Any time.”

Andraste's tits, he didn't need to dredge those feelings back up from that particular wound. He was perfectly happy pretending that heartbreak didn't exist. That his best friend in the world hadn't stomped on his heart, whether on purpose or not.

He didn't want to remember the way her face would look when she thought he wasn't looking. He didn't want to know what she sounded like, the way her voice would become a forced whisper when she was close to coming undone. He hated how much he loved her curves, every single one of them. The way her breasts curved when she'd arch her back to his touch, how her toes would curl in delight, the way her neck curved when she'd look up to the sky as release washed over her, sweet nothings escaping from her curved, chapped lips.

 _No, just get back to what you were doing before._ He imagined Aveline telling him. He couldn't argue with Aveline. _Finish making your dinner, Varric, and then do some writing. That'll help you feel better._

His ringtone went off, just as he was putting the food in the oven.

“Hello?”  
“Varric! Good news!” Isabela's voice came through.  
“What?”  
“Hawke's just told me she'll be at Chainz tonight.”  
“Really?”  
“This will probably be the best chance you'll get to speak to her.”

He stood for a moment, considering his options.

“What time will she be there?”  
“Maker only knows. Entry is free before 11 though so probably before then.”  
“I... guess I'll see you there then.”  
“See you then.”

He put the phone down and took a deep breath. He needed to find something to wear.

  
  


He arrived at Chainz at 10.50 and found a quieter place to sit beside the bar. He felt completely out of his element, surrounded by the youth of Kirkwall, some who he recognised from when they were in dungarees. What in the void was he thinking? This wasn't going to work.

He was ready to bail and go home, but then he heard a familiar shriek. Turning his head, he saw Hawke at the other end of the bar with Isabela, who threw him a wink. Had it really been close to two months since he'd seen Hawke? It certainly didn't feel like it, but he couldn't tell if it felt longer or not. No, it definitely seemed longer. Closer to a year, maybe. Hawke didn't seem to notice him there, but she was being a hell of a lot more boisterous than she had need to be.

“Three shots, one vodka, one tequila and one rum please. And a blue cocktail jug.” She grinned, taking the money from her cleavage, “Let's get fucking wasted!” She cried, jumping up and down.

She downed the shots before Varric had even realised and danced away towards the dance floor as soon as the jug was made. She must have already been pretty far gone because she was moving her hips in a way that only a drunk Hawke could ever manage. He had to pull his gaze away to take a drink of his disgustingly cheap, watered down whiskey and coke to give himself some courage to speak to her.

Why was he so nervous? He had no need to be. She was just a person. A... friend.

He hopped off the stool and pushed through the inebriated crowds until he found her. She already seemed to have admirers of her unusual style of dancing. With a deep breath in his lungs, he raised a hand and tapped on her shoulder. With a flourish, she turned around and looked at him, her eyes practically bursting out of her skull, her mouth ajar. She blinked at him and spun back around, resuming her overly sexual dance.

“Hawke!” He tried to shout over the music, “I need to speak to you!”

She kept her back to him, but she raised her hand, flicking her wrist, as if shooing him away. Needless to say, Isabela looked more than a little unsure.

“Hawke! Please, can we just have a conversation?” He pleaded.  
“Can't you get a hint?” She hissed, her head snapping around so he could see her profile.  
Isabela quipped up, “Hawke, maybe you should-”

She grabbed Isabela's hand and dragged her even further from the bar, down some stairs and into the thick of the crowds. Isabela shot him a look and raised her phone before they both disappeared. True to her word, his phone buzzed within seconds

_Wait till she's more drunk. I'll see if more weed can help too._

He was sick of waiting, but what was another hour or so on top of almost two months? He made his way outside, much better to wait where he wouldn't get trampled on or deafened by obnoxiously loud music. What was the appeal of a place like that?

He couldn't stand too close to the street corner there because the memory of standing there with her, having a deep conversation about life at 4 in the morning was too real, too raw. At least he saw a few people he knew well enough to have a conversation with so he passed a while pretending to be interested in their pet nugs. But really, who in the right mind would name a nug Nugget? It would be like naming a pig pork chop! At least one of them gave him a cigarette, which seemed to be the only thing helping his nerves right now.

After a while he ventured back inside, ordered another, stronger drink (Maker forbid he sober up in a place like this) and went back to trying to find Hawke.

The crowds had become rowdier in the time he was away, drunkenly yelling along to whatever unrecognisable song was playing, shoving at each other, drinks crashing to the floor, a lingering smell of bodily fluids hanging ominously in the air. But with persistence (from Maker knows where) he managed to find Hawke.

In the arms of a stranger.

He was pulling at her, grappling her waist and littering her neck with sloppy drunken kisses. His stomach tightened, his fists clenched and he had to force himself to breathe in the heavy club air. Wait a second, wasn't she with Hugh?

“Hawke!” He croaked, pulling the pair apart, “What are you doing? What about Hugh?”

She turned and gave him a strange look, as if she'd just woken up from being asleep... or was that just a memory filtering into the present? Her head tilted to the side, her lidded eyes blinking slowly. At any rate, she was far from sober.

“We're finished! He was just.. ended it!” She yelled over the music, about to grapple back onto the guy.  
“Wait, when?”  
“A few maybe hours ago?” She shrugged, almost falling over in the process, “I dunno really what time it is any more.”

She pulled the guy back into an intoxicated embrace, crashing into this stranger like waves upon the Wounded Coast. Her hand grasped at his face, another reaching around his waist, pushing and pulling against him, is if she was trying to force their bodies to fuse together. The sickening display brought up yet more memories. Him and her colliding and clashing together like strikes of lightning. Heat, so much heat. How she sizzled under his fingertips and burned under his lips.

Why was there such little air in here? Shouldn't he be used to places like this? He was a dwarf, after all.

Tears burned at the back of his eyes, but he wouldn't let them show. Angry words screeched inside his brain, aching to be set free, so loudly that he could hear nothing else, but he wasn't going to let them out. His fists balled together, desperate to collide with something and the wall over there was ever so tempting, but what would that achieve? Getting thrown out of the most questionable establishment in Kirkwall? And even if he did make his feelings known, what then? She wouldn't remember in the morning and it would all be for nothing. This whole nug-humping plan was for nothing anyway. Why did he bother? Why did he _care_? And why couldn't he look away from this, _this_ , which ached his soul to the very core to look at?

“Can you go fuck off now?” She asked him, giggling from the man nuzzling into her neck.  
“I hope you're not going to go home with him.”  
“Why would not?” She asked, her face half way between anger and sleep.  
“You're pissed! You're just getting taken advantage of!”  
“Well maybe that's just what I maybe want!”

Those words were a knife to his gut; puncturing his lungs, leaving him gasping, his chest torn to shreds, the room spinning endlessly around him, the walls caving in. The loud music was blaring in his ears, but he didn't hear any of it.

“Wait, you _want_ to be taken advantage of?” The words came out as a whisper. He was almost surprised they came out at all.  
“Oi, mate! What's your problem?” The guy asked, his nose crinkled in disgust.  
“Hawke, what's the point-”  
“Fuck off!” She yelled, almost toppling over head-first, spit flying in his direction. He couldn't tell if it was on purpose.  
“Take a hint, mate! Shove off.”

Varric raised his hands in defeat, no longer able to take the sight of her in that maker-forsaken embrace in that maker-forsaken place. He tipped the last of his drink in his mouth, slammed the glass onto the bar and stormed out of there. He wished he'd never come. No, he wished he'd never _wanted_ to.

The memory of her messily embracing that awful Fereldan guy was the only thing keeping him company on the walk home, whether he wanted it or not. It was hard to pretend that chest didn't hurt, that he didn't feel numb, or that he wasn't on the verge of tears. His brain was still running though, and it didn't stop there. No, when did it ever stop? Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Hawke and that guy, the things they would probably do the moment they could find any ounce of privacy.

 _His_ drunken hands on her body. Her hands on his. Clothing falling, discarded, flung away. Feverish. _Desperate._ Her mouth trailing kisses down his bare chest the way she used to...

He had to steady himself on a greasy wall, stomach heaving and his hands shaking. A lone, drunk person stumbled past him, crooning a soft melody as they swayed from side to side, feet light like the soft pitter patter of rain. They seemed to smell like a wet mabari, but they didn't care. They probably didn't notice. Their legs stumbled to a shaky stop as they stopped to pick up something shiny and then carried on their way. Varric lowered his hand from the wall, wiped it on his trousers and moved one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.

That shit of a person wouldn't appreciate her. As much as learning that she was with Hugh had torn him up, at least _he_ would treat her well. That stranger wouldn't know how special she was, even if she'd proven herself undeserving of the word. Not that that could stop him thinking it. No, those two horrible people deserved each other and they could go be shits far, far away from him.

After Bianca, he'd sworn he'd never get close enough to anyone to let them hurt him. That no-one was worth the pain... but Hawke? She was fire and he allowed himself to get burnt, thinking this time maybe, just maybe, things would turn out different. But no. She was a shit too. He allowed himself to fall in love - just the tiniest bit - and _this_ was how the world rewards him?

 _The Maker must really hate me._ Varric thought to himself, reaching his door after what felt like an eternity of wandering aimlessly.

The first thing he did once he was through the door, was reach for his alcohol shelf and get the best damned whiskey down and a large glass. His shoes were next on the agenda, soon flying to the other sides of the room and his jacket soon following suit.

Underneath him, the city was still bustling with nocturnal life. In the distance, car horns blared, glasses smashed and friends sang. This was the world, the world without him and it would go on. But at least in the comfort of his own home he could let himself cry.

  
  


That morning he woke up to the sound of the birds chirping outside. He didn't remember leaving his window open, but he must have. Lazily, he rolled over, half thinking about whether he'd see Hawke today, if he could tempt her over this evening, if she could maybe spend the night.

But then he remembered.

The window was slammed shut and the curtains drawn so tightly that they were practically tangled together. _That_ was the world that caused him hurt and he didn't want to live in it right now. He threw himself back into bed, covering his face with a spare pillow.

Maybe he could fall asleep and have that moment again. That moment of not knowing. Maybe it would last longer next time and maybe the realisation would hurt less. He could only hope, even if hope had abandoned him, just like everything else.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Wicked Grace night was serving as an almost housewarming that week. Of course, he arrived early at Fenris and Anders' new place, a crate of beer under one arm and some home made snacks in his other hand. It'd been a long time since he'd cooked so much. Not that anyone would complain.

Of course, Merrill was already there, trying to help set things up, much to Anders' amusement and Fenris' annoyance. He placed the food and beer out on the untrustworthy table and opened a bottle for himself, choosing to sit on the couch, away from the others, pretending to read one of Anders' many books about cats. He was all for owning books, but why would one person need so many books about cats?

Aveline turned up soon after, the only one really on time, still in her police uniform, but mightily glad for the food he'd brought.

“How was the road trip?” She asked, joining him on the couch.  
“Interesting.” He forced a chuckle, putting the book back on the wonky bookcase, “Don't know if I'd do it again though.”  
“Fair enough. I hope you had fun, at least.”  
“I did.” He lied.

Well, it wasn't a _complete_ lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth. Trust Hawke to fuck everything up. And trust him to let her fuck everything up. He put the beer bottle to his lips and drank for a solid few seconds.

“How was Hawke? I heard she came along.”  
“She had to leave early.” He grumbled, “Said she was ill.”  
“Really? I wouldn't have thought so, looking at her social media.”  
“She _said_ she was ill.” He repeated.

Aveline nodded. Thank the maker she was a smart woman.

Somehow, he'd already finished his second bottle by the time Isabela sauntered through the door, fashionably late and in a very interesting pirate outfit, with a matching mask now slung around her neck. Like Aveline, she must have also come straight from her work.

“I guess Satinalia's started early this year.” Anders quipped, a cheesy grin on his face.  
“Yeah well, it gets earlier every year.” She sighed, “Gotta make the most of it. People always tip more when they're in the holiday spirit.” Her hand reached for the vodka bottle and a glass, “And speaking of spirit...”

Varric let out a forced chuckle, but really the banter around the room was doing nothing good for his mood tonight. It was doing the opposite, really. Maybe another beer would help? He hauled himself to his feet and made his way to the drinks table.

“How are you holding up?” Isabela asked, sliding up beside him.  
“Somewhat.” He mumbled, barely able to hide the hurt in his voice.  
“One step at a time, eh?” She sighed, nudging him.  
“Who's ready for Wicked Grace?” Anders called out, pulling up makeshift chairs to the kitchen table.

The group sat around the rickety table and Varric set about shuffling. He _could_ have stacked the deck, but his heart wasn't in it. His heart wasn't in anything anymore. What was the point?

Cards were quickly dealt, Varric picked up his hand and threw in a few silver. He already wanted to go home.

“So boys,” Isabela cooed, her attention turning from her drink to Anders and Fenris, “How are you two settling in.”  
“It's been... interesting.” Fenris began.  
“I keep trying to convince him to let me have a cat, but he won't let me.” Anders moaned, his mouth full of food.  
“This place is already basically a cat shrine.” Fenris sighed, throwing his hands in the general direction of the walls, which were plastered with pictures of cats.  
“What kind of cat shrine _wouldn't_ have a cat in it?”  
“A _liveable_ cat shrine, maybe?”

Varric had to stifle a sigh. For once, he'd wished he hadn't come to this Wicked Grace night. At least the beer was helping him feel a little better... maybe. It was hard to tell when he was rapidly approaching being drunk.

He was yet to win a round by the time the fourth round rolled around, but he wasn't bothered. He was more bothered about getting through the night without doing or saying anything that would hurt his friends.

And that was when his phone went off. He checked it, finding it was only spam, but he could still see Bianca's message right there. He didn't know why he didn't just delete it the moment he got it. But he hadn't. His eyes shuffled to the rest of the room. Anyone would kill him if they knew what he was about to do. Especially Hawke, but he'd be damned if he cared what she thought.

 _Sure._ He typed, _When will you be in town?_

His thumb hovered over the send button, struggling to find the drive to press it, his stomach twisted in knots.

“Varric?”

His head snapped and he tightened his grasp around his phone, his thumb whistling with the _message sent_ noise. Shit.

“It's your turn.” Aveline said, an eyebrow raised.  
“Oh right, sure.”

He quickly picked the lowest face card and discarded it, finding Isabela picking it up only moments later.

Shit _._

“Are we doing anything after this?” Isabela asked, fanning herself with her cards. She had at least two too many.  
“We could go to the Hanged Man.” Anders quipped, “Karaoke's always a good plan.”  
“It's not the same without Hawke though.” Merrill sighed.  
“Even if her singing was shit.” Fenris mumbled.  
“I think I'll head off after this round.” Varric sighed, stifling the urge to throw down his cards and leave, “I'm feeling quite tired,” Not a lie exactly, “And I did a lot of work this week.” _That_ was a lie.

Something was coming back up and Varric had to drink it back down. It seemed like anger. It would have been handy to have been sober enough to tell, but he was relieved he wasn't sober enough to face his emotions. Isabela would no doubt have the Angel of Death card by now. This round was going on way too long. He shot her a look and sure enough-

“Angel of Death, guys.” She sighed holding up the card.

The table groaned and showed their hands. He knew he hadn't won before he'd even picked up that hand so he got his things together, forced out a half-cheerful goodbye and took another beer for the walk home. He'd be damned if he'd face this walk anything close to sober.

His phone was already out of his pocket the moment he was out the door. She'd replied.

 _I'll be over at the end of next week. We could meet up Friday maybe?  
Sure. Coffee? _ He reluctantly typed.

“Varric?” Isabela appeared behind him, startling him out of his skin.  
“Shit! Oh, em...” He shoved his phone away from her prying eyes.  
“Care to tell me why you've been so on edge?”

Somehow, even telling Isabela about Bianca seemed a good idea. Maybe he was a little more drunk than he gave himself credit for.

“You're not going to like it.” He mumbled.  
“Yeah well, whatever it is is more important than whatever I'm feeling right now.”

The words were far too sour to say aloud, so instead he sighed, took out his phone and shoved it in front of her face.

“What the fuck?” Isabela breathed as her eyes darted across the screen, “Is that really _her_?”  
He nodded, “I'm pretty damn sure.”  
“And you're going to meet her then? You're not going to plan to meet and then not turn up?”  
“I guess...”  
“Just... don't let her into your head. That's the last thing you need right now.”

He huffed in agreement and put the beer bottle to his lips.

“You look like you need a smoke.”  
“Perish the thought.” He sighed, twitching his cheek into something resembling a smile.  
“Tell you what, I'll walk you home and then I'll meet the others at the Hanged Man.”  
“Thanks.”  
“You say that as if your house isn't right next to the place.” She laughed, producing two cigarettes and a lighter. She lit his first and then her own, seemingly pondering over something as she put it to her lips.

They would have walked in silence through the city's streets and alleyways, but silence was not a word to be associated with Kirkwall at this time of night. Under the flickering street lights, the late evening turned ominous. People pushed past, others shouting and some looking for fights. Car alarms, horns and sirens blared. There was too many people here. Too much nose. It was all just too much. And those street lights were nothing but a violent attack on the senses.

It was true that he loved the city, sometimes more than words could say, but sometimes he just wanted rid of it. As if it were a burden.

“How are you feeling about Hawke?”  
“Still...” He fumbled for the right word. “Angry.” That seemed to do.  
“Same. She's been completely blanking me too now. Won't even respond to my messages or anything.” She took a draw of her cigarette, a strong familiar smell wafting out, “Not that I didn't sympathise with you before, but now I _really_ know how you feel.” She caught a look at his face, “Shit- sorry, I mean, I know how it feels for her to blank you.”

He shook his head and drunk the last swig from the bottle and dropped it on the ground, letting it smash. No, that didn't help.

“I know she isn't your favourite subject, but have you seen her social media?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I was just about to warn you not to look. She's flying off the bloody handle. I mean, she was bad enough before... but at least she'd speak to me!”  
“I don't care any more.” Probably the biggest lie of the night, “She can do what she wants. I'm done trying to help.”  
“Yeah, I'm on my last tether with her.”  
“I don't know how you still have an ounce of patience for her, if I'm honest.” Honesty certainly seemed to be a theme that night, “I mean, why stick your neck out for someone who's just going to break it.”  
“I know, I know, and I'd be done with her months ago if I thought she was mentally sound.”

He grumbled and took a long draw of whatever the fuck was in the cigarette tangled into his fingers, the smoke burning at his eyes.

“I'm just sick of talking about her. I swear that she's all anyone ever thinks or talks about.”  
“Sorry.”

Isabela's phone bleeped and she checked it, before sighing deeply and putting it away.

Now only a few metres away from his house, he fumbled for his keys. He could already hear the sweet calling of his bed; of comfort, warmth and loneliness.

“Thanks for walking me home. And for whatever was in this.”  
“Oh, didn't I tell you there was weed in that?” He shook his head, “Ah sorry... habit, I guess.”  
“I'll see you around.” He said, as if he actually meant it.  
“Take care of yourself.” She said, as if she actually meant it.

He turned away and flicked the end of the cigarette onto the ground, watching the soft glow fade into nothingness as he turned the lock.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“Hello everyone!” Donnic's voice boomed out from a speaker at the other end of the room, “Is everyone having fun?”

There was a hearty cheer of approval from the crowd and his smile widened still.

“Just to let you all know that now the main course is finished, the speeches will be starting in about five minutes. Champagne will be coming round, but be sure to get any other drinks you might want!”

Varric hauled himself to his feet and made his way to the toilet. Quite a few other people seemed to have the same idea because the toilets were packed, but he managed to eventually find a stall.

The whole day had just felt draining. Sure, it was a nice thing to watch one of his best friends get married to a good man, someone that deserves her... But he definitely wasn't emotionally ready to see Hawke again. And again. Every time he looked up his eyes seemed to lock on her. He really hated himself sometimes.

He watched himself with tired eyes in the mirror as he washed his hands. He really needed to get more positive or people wouldn't want to be around him soon. He pushed through the door into the hallway and made his way back to the hall until-

“Varric.”

Hawke stood in front of him, startled like a nug caught in headlights.

“Hawke?”  
“Oh, hi Varric.” She mumbled, refusing to look him in the eye.

Who cared if she obviously didn't want to see him? Now was his chance to speak to her.

“Could I-”  
Her eyes widened and she stared at the floor, shuffling past him, “You know, I really, _really_ need to get to the toilet. Which is...why I'm, you know, on my _way_ to the toilet.”

_**Please** _ _don't be like this, Hawke._

He grit his teeth into a smile, “O-of course. I just wanted to-”  
“Bye!”

She lunged into the bathroom before he could say another word. Maker's hairy ass, what was he thinking? It was pointless. He may as well ignore her for the rest of the night.

So that's what he tried to do.

He made his way back to his seat just in time for the speeches. He almost wished Hawke hadn't refused so intently to make a speech. It would have been interesting to hear her thoughts on love and commitment.

Very interesting indeed.

It would have also been nice to have had a seat close enough to the couple not to have to squint. Why did he let Isabela convince him not to sit with the others?

“Hello everyone!” Donnic's voice echoed through the room, accompanied by microphone feedback, “I want to start by thanking each and every one of you for being here today. It means the world to both of us to have so many loved ones here with us.” Over at the table he could see Aveline nodding, “I know some of you have travelled far out of your ways to be with us and we really appreciate it.

“There's a lot of people who are not here, but will always be in our thoughts and hearts. So let's raise a glass in toast to those who are gone, but not forgotten.”

The room raised their glasses, some more full than others, solemn faces all around as they all took a drink.

“But today is a celebration.” Donnic continued, turning to face Aveline, “A celebration of love. Never in my life did I think I would ever meet someone as strong and beautiful as Aveline. Never in my life did I think that she could possibly love me back. But here she is, sitting beside me and proving me wrong in the best way possible. I love you more than words can describe... that's why I had to rope Varric into helping me try to put it into words.”

A chuckle spread around the room and Donnic nodded in Varric's direction, as he felt his chest clench. He'd almost forgotten how well he knew those words, helping Donnic to put his overflowing emotions into words. But Varric had had his own inspiration when helping him months ago. A woman who, from the looks of it, still hadn't returned from the toilet and still refused to speak to him. Not that he was bitter. Oh, who was he kidding? He was basically marinating in bitterness at this point and alcohol certainly wasn't helping.

“Ever since the moment I met her, shouting drills at new recruits – one of which was me – I knew I had met someone special. So I'd like to raise a toast to Aveline herself, who I am overjoyed to call my wife.”

The room raised a glass once more, whoops and cheering coming from Isabela's table.

“I'm going to pass the microphone over to her now. I hope you all have a good night!”

Aveline took the microphone and got to her feet. Varric could almost see her police captain mask slip into place.

“I know Donnic has already said it, but I want to thank you all for being here. I want to especially thank Hawke and Isabela for managing to keep me sane through the planning and lead up to all of this. I wouldn't have thought those two would actually have been a help, but stranger things have happened. I'd also like to thank Varric - who's hiding all the way at the back of the room – he helped me write my speech too.”

There was some muffled laughter around the room and a few heads turned to look at him. Aveline smiled and turned to Donnic.

“You are so wonderful and compassionate, even through everything life has thrown at you. If I'm honest, I don't know what I've done to deserve you. Every day you surprise me with your thoughtfullness, with gifts and words that never fail to make me smile, even if I'm up to my neck in paperwork. I can still remember saving you from those lowtown thugs like it was yesterday. The fear of you coming to harm was what made me realise that I wanted more than just a professional relationship with you.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, a hand raising to rub her nose. A nervous gesture.

“And I guess I have to thank Hawke again for stopping me from making a _complete_ fool of myself while trying to court you.” Her eyes flickered over to the empty seat, her brow furrowing, if only for a moment. “Copper marigolds... what was I thinking?” She shook her head, a light blush covering her cheeks, “But anyway, I would like to take this opportunity to have a toast.” She raised her glass, “To Donnic. A man I am proud to call my husband.”

The room raised their glasses once more, almost all of them already empty at this point as they took (or pretended to take) a drink. Riotous applause erupted as Aveline sat back down, trying to say something to Isabela.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hawke stumbling in holding two bottles of wine, trying to make it not so obvious she'd missed all the speeches. Her face looked a little different though. Had she changed her makeup?

No. He was trying to ignore her. That was the only way he could hope to have a good time.

He hung around the bar for a bit, flitting from social group to social group while he waited for the DJ and dance floor to be set up. He quickly learnt that Aveline's colleagues certainly knew how to have a good time. It was amusing to watch them drink extraordinarily strong drinks and tell stories of Aveline that would make her face as red as her hair, but he couldn't help but be grateful when Merrill made her way over.

“It's so wonderful, isn't it?” Merrill sighed as she took in the décor of the room, as if looking at it for the first time, a look of melancholy on her face, “I hope I can be that happy with someone one day.”  
“I'm sure you will, Daisy.” He said, giving her the most convincing smile he could muster.

Music came floating in through from the main hall, signalling that the dance floor was ready. Aveline and Donnic were already in the middle of the dance floor, waiting for everyone to pile in so they could have their first dance. The pair entwined and the music began, a surprisingly but familiarly upbeat guitar melody.

_There were bells on a hill  
But I never heard them ringing  
No, I never heard them at all  
Till there was you_

Aveline's worry lines seemed etched on her face as she struggled to remember the steps to the dance, but Donnic gave her a reassuring look and pulled her in closer as a smile grew on her face.

_There were birds in the sky  
But I never saw them winging  
No, I never saw them at all  
Till there was you_

_Then there was music and wonderful roses  
They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows  
Of dawn and dew_

_There was love all around  
But I never heard it singing  
No, I never heard it at all  
Till there was you_

His eyes couldn't help but flicker towards Hawke. Was she pissed already? She didn't even bother looking at the couple. Instead, her drink held her full attention, swirling it absent-mindedly with a solemn look on her face.

_Then there was music and wonderful roses  
They tell me in sweet fragrant meadows  
Of dawn and dew_

_There was love all around  
But I never heard it singing  
No, I never heard it at all  
Till there was you  
Till there was you _

The music faded and so with the dance over, he took his drink and found somewhere to sit while others danced about to the next song blaring through the speakers. Fenris joined him, but Anders soon came over and asked him to dance. He wouldn't be surprised if there was something going on between those two. Maybe he'd make a bet with Rivaini later.

Of course, Hawke was one of the first people on the dance floor, jumping and tripping over her own feet, almost in time with the cheesy pop music blasting through the speakers, but at least she looked happy. Probably thanks to the sheer amount she'd been drinking or something Isabela gave her. Probably both. Varric was right though, she _was_ already pissed. Even so, she continued to frequent the bar, ordering numerous bottles of wine. At least she wasn't letting strangers take advantage of her. The night was still young, though.

Some time later, Isabela caught his eye and sauntered over. Hawke was nowhere to be seen at this point. Probably at the bar trying to worm herself free drinks.

“How are you doing?” She asked, looking at him with that sympathetic look he hated more than almost anything or anyone. _Almost_.  
“Okay, I guess.” He sighed looking into his empty glass with equally glassy eyes, “I think the question here is; is _Hawke_ okay?”  
“She seems so.”  
“I'm pretty sure she's in one of her 'drink everything I can so I don't have to deal with reality' moods.”  
“She's just celebrating! Her second best friend has just got married.”  
“You can celebrate without drinking yourself into a coma.”  
“You're not exactly the poster child for sobriety, Varric.”  
“What's that supposed to mean?” He huffed.

She cast an eye towards the almost empty bottle of whiskey Varric had been nursing. Sure, he'd been drinking for hours now, but he wasn't _drunk._ Not like Hawke.  
“Careful she doesn't drink to much.” He sighed, pouring himself the last drop from the bottle.  
“Don't worry, she knows her limits.”

A snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't have the chance to say it. Hawke came sweeping by, grabbing Isabela by the arm onto the dance floor.Tears were already flowing down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking, screeching out the words of the song as if there was no tomorrow. As if she could relate to it. As if she even _knew_ what love is. As if the singer was singing right to her. As if she knew her limits. Hawke had never known her limits, or if she had, she didn't care for them. Not with relationships, not with words and certainly not with alcohol. All she ever cared about was leaving a wake of destruction after her, damning the consequences or just blaming them on other people.

She was barely even able to stand, grappling onto Isabela in a feeble attempt to stand up. Her piercing blue eyes catching the disco lights, glazed and glued to Varric.

“ _Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart.”_

Her eyes bore through him, making his stomach squirm, even though they were almost closed. Even so, she was still mouthing the words as she let go of Isabela took a wobbly step towards him. And then another. And another.

“ _Nothing I can say, a total eclipse of the heart.”_

At this point it was definitely no mistake that she was trying to get to him. In the nick of time, Isabela realised and pulled her away, hauling her out the door.

He had to go get another bottle after that. Thank the sodding Ancestors that the bar took card payments.

As he took the new bottle, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Reluctantly, he took it out and scanned over the message.

 _We've had a breakthrough._ Isabela had sent.

 _What do you mean?_ He typed and retyped, his hands not cooperating for some reason.

_Hawke's just spilled some heavy shit to me._

_What kind of shit?_ Not that he wanted to know.

_I don't want to say much, but it involves you. Fuck, I really hope she remembers this in the morning because I really think you should hear it._

_Would I even want to hear it?_

_I think you should. Bless her, she's crying her heart out right now. I'm going to have to take her to mine. I don't want her going home alone._

_That's fair enough. Thanks for looking after her._

_Don't mention it. It's not exactly like you could right now._

Maybe Isabela was right. Maybe he _was_ a little more drunk than he gave himself credit for.

The party atmosphere was beginning to die down a little, making Varric consider maybe calling it a night. But then Merrill popped up beside him, cheery and bright eyed, asking him up to dance. Why the fuck not? Why _shouldn't_ he enjoy himself?

He made his way too his feet with a little more difficulty than expected, the room spinning a little as he made his way to the dance floor. Shit, was he really _that_ drunk? Merrill had long taken off her heels and was now dancing barefoot, which Varric was grateful for because he didn't have to crane his neck to look at her quite so much, even if she had been wearing kitten heels.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Why was he so early? He checked his watch for the hundredth time since arriving but no, he was still obnoxiously early. Pacing the block did nothing for his nerves so he decided to head inside, order a drink and get out his notebook. He may as well channel that nervous feeling and empty time into something helpful.

His phone buzzed and he reached for it, butterflies in his stomach already. Of course, it was only Rivaini.

_Operation redemption is go!_

_What?_ He messaged back.

_You'll find out. Just you wait._

He began tapping out his reply, his fingers dancing over the keys. _This better not be anything that's going to ruin-_

“Varric?”

Hearing her voice again brought back a hundred memories at once, a rush of nostalgia and pain. Emotions that he thought he'd laid to rest years ago. Maker's balls, had he _really_ forgotten what she sounded like? Nevertheless, he was happy to see her again, even if that happiness was contorted.

“Bianca!” He called back, his eyes finding her in a second.

She came walking over, a latte in hand. Everything about her seemed different. Her clothes were no longer colourful, now she wore shades of browns and greys. It made her look... sophisticated? Not that she wasn't before. Even the way she walked seemed different. She no longer strode across the room, now she walked quickly and with purpose. As she sat down, she removed her hood to reveal different hair. It was shorter now, framing her striking face, which was somehow even paler than before, despite living in Antiva of all places.

Time could never erase her beauty, though. He always used to wonder why people wouldn't stare at her as she'd pass in the street and that hadn't changed.

“You haven't changed one bit!” She smiled, somehow still able to read his mind.

She used _that_ tone. The one he always hated, as if she was about criticize him. At least she was smiling to soften the blow.

“ _You've_ changed.” He replied, putting his writing things away. No need for more criticism from her.  
“How's life been treating you?” She asked, shrugging off her coat.  
“Pretty good, actually.” He'd already pretended to have this conversation more times than he could count, “I don't know if you've heard, but my latest book has been selling really well.”  
“Hard in Hightown?”

He nodded, taking a drink of his coffee, even though it was doing nothing for his nerves or the knot in his stomach.

“I heard about that. I _do_ look out for your books, you know.”

 _You didn't care when we were still together._ He thought, almost aloud.

“How've you been then?” He said instead.  
“Okay. My new job is good.”  
“And your-” The word caught at the back of his throat, but he forced it out, “marriage?”

He could see the surprise on her face, carefully disguised behind a pondering expression.

“He's a nice enough guy, but...” She sighed, her gaze lowering to her hands, “I don't love him. It was a marriage of convenience to please my parents.”  
“Of course it was.” He muttered.  
“I would have married you if I could, Varric, but you know what they're like!”  
“I remember well enough, but they couldn't have that control over your life unless you let them.”  
“I know it's hard for you to understand-”  
“Oh, I understand well enough.” He grumbled, hiding his frown behind his cup, “You were their little Princess, who could do no wrong until you didn't do what they wanted.”

He took a gulp of his coffee, finding it was still a little too hot.

“We can still be together, Varric.” Bianca sighed, her hand reaching towards his.  
“But you're married!”  
“I still love you, Varric! We could make this work! I mean, look at us! Meeting in broad daylight! We've already made it this far without any problems. No-one will find out we're seeing each other if we're not reckless about it.”  
“So I'd... you'd hop on a plane whenever the fancy takes you? I'd just be your something else on the side? So you could have your cake and eat it?”  
“I'm not happy with him. Think of how happy we were, how happy we _could_ be.” She gave him a sad smile, “You're single anyway, aren't you?”

He swallowed, trying to think of something to say. With Hawke fucked off to Maker knows where, she had a frustratingly valid point.

“YOU!” A voice thundered from the door of the café.

Varric's head turned instinctively to it to see...  
_No. No, Maker, no! Not now!_

The knot in his stomach increased tenfold as Hawke thundered over to them, fire in her eyes, and slammed her fist on the flimsy table, almost knocking over their drinks.

“You _bitch_!” She cried, pointing her finger at Bianca, “Do you _know_ what you did to him? How shitty you made him feel when you left him without so much of an explanation?”

Bianca had that determined expression on her face, her nose wrinkled and eyes slanted. Once upon a time he would have found that adorable. But this wasn't once upon a time. This was now.

“I assure you-” She began, but Hawke wasn't having any of it.  
“Oh, are you about to tell me you had Varric's best interests at heart? Because I don't know if you ever had, even when you were with him! Did you ever _actually_ care about him? Because I don't think you did!”

She took a quick and deep breath, not giving anyone any chance to butt in. She'd probably had this speech stored away in her head for all this time.

“And he was _so_ upset, he didn't know what to do without you! Do you know how it feels to see someone you love feel like they're not even worth their place on the earth? To feel like the only thing they deserve is to whither away and die? To think that he'd never find love or happiness with anyone ever again?”

Hawke stood for a moment, taking deep breaths, her mouth practically frothing. Her fists were clenched and her face changing from anger to shock, but she wasn't done just yet.

“You're just a despicable person a-and if anyone doesn't deserve happiness, it's _you_.”

And with that she turned on her heels and practically ran out the café, just like a hurricane, leaving destruction in her wake. The whole café seemed to be in shock. Hushed whispers seemed to come from every corner.

“I'm sorry about that,” He turned to Bianca, who seemed stunned into silence, “I'm going to find out what that was about. Give me five minutes, okay?”  
“Okay.” She sighed back.

Varric grabbed his jacket, dashed out the café and gave chase.

“Hawke!” He yelled after her.  
“V-Varric!” She turned around, “I just-”  
“Why the fuck did you do that?”  
“I thought she should know what she did to you.”  
“And somehow _you_ have the right to do that?”

She stood, her mouth opening and closing. He could see her brain going a mile a minute, trying to rationally explain why she did what she did. But she couldn't.

“You shouted at Bianca for leaving me with no explanation and ignoring me, but you did _exactly_ the same thing! You're _just_ as bad as her!”

He didn't even realise he was shouting until he stopped to take a breath. Hawke put a hand over her mouth, her face was the picture of shock.

“Do you really think it didn't hurt when you outright blanked me? _You_ were the one that convinced me that it was Bianca and not me! _You_ were the one that told me that only a horrible person would do that to someone! _You_ reassured me that I _was_ worthy of love but then _you_ turn around and treat me exactly how she did?” He had to take a deep breath, “How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?”

She didn't reply, she just stood silently, tears streaming down her face, catching the sobs with her hand.

“Just leave me alone. I tried to salvage our friendship, but time after time you threw it back in my face. I don't want anything to do with you any more. That bridge has already been burned... by _you._ ”

  
  


And with that, he walked away, back to the café, taking deep breaths. It was unsurprisingly cathartic to shout at Hawke, especially considering he'd had to hold back his feelings, his sadness and anger towards her for so long now. He gave himself a minute to calm down before going back inside.

“Everything okay?” Bianca asked, looking up from her phone, a new latte already there to replace the spilt one.  
“It is _now_.” He sighed, throwing off his jacket.  
“Good.” She leaned forward and watched Varric sit back down, “Did you have a think about what I said?”  
“About us?”

She nodded, taking a sip of her drink.

“I... have a lot going on at the moment. Shall we just call it a maybe?”  
She tilted her head, her dark eyes catching the light. “I can take that. Especially considering I wasn't even expecting a reply from you when I got back in contact.”  
“That's the magic of alcohol.” He chuckled softly, trying to fight down the last of the adrenaline, “You somehow think certain things are a good idea.”

Bianca nodded silently and sighed, looking to the window on the other side of the room, resting her head on her fist. Somehow her eyes looked different than he remembered. They were still brown, of course, but they seemed tired. As if she'd had to deal with a whole life full of shit in the past few years. Her nails were bitten too, uneven and scabbing in places.

_I guess she no longer goes for her weekly manicure._

“I should get going.” She sighed, suddenly blinking back the starts of tears and putting her jacket on, “I have things to do before going back to Antiva.”  
“Are you okay?”

She gave him a look so intense that he was taken back, but she only nodded in response, standing up from the table.

“See you later.” She sighed, turning her back to him and practically fleeing.

There was definitely something strange going on with Bianca, something she wasn't telling him, but there was no use trying to get it out of her. If there was something Bianca didn't want you to know then you would probably never find it out.

 _I guess there's more similarities between Bianca and Hawke than I thought._ He mused to himself, getting his writing things back out.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


The only thing that could get Varric through his shitty meetings with shitty editors was knowing that he could come back home to Bianca. _Bianca._ That name always rolled off his tongue like the sweetest of honey, the light at the end of the piss-filled tunnel that was his day.

They'd have something nice for dinner, Bianca would probably watch something about engineering on the TV and Varric would sit beside her, happily tapping away a story on his laptop. Aah, that was the life, that was what he lived for and today was no different.

Up the steps to the apartment he trod, unlocked the door and let himself in.

 _Strange. Wasn't there a poster on the wall there?_ Varric thought while taking his shoes off. _Maybe Bianca's been redecorating._

He hauled his coat off his heavy shoulders and dumped his things on the couch.

_There was cushions here, and candles too. What's going on?_

“Bianca?” He called out, walking though the house, “Bianca, are you in?”

No reply.

The more of the house he trailed through looking for her, the more things he noticed gone. Her clothes, her makeup, her notebooks, her bags... her suitcase too. Not a single thing remained. Everything. Gone. Not a trace, except... her engagement ring and a note left beside it on the kitchen counter.

_I'm so sorry, Varric. I can't do it._

But what did she mean she couldn't do it? The engagement? They didn't have to get married, he was perfectly happy how they were! All he'd wanted to do was show her he was serious about loving her and wanting a life with her.

He checked every nook and cranny of the house, every inch, but everything of hers was gone. Except the food she'd bought and a few old toiletries.

Had she been planning this?

He picked up his phone and tried to phone her but he'd been blocked? Maybe there was a mistake with the phone line. He tried again and still, he was blocked. He checked social media and couldn't even find her. Either she'd blocked him or deleted her accounts.

So he stood there, empty and numb. His head burned with the possibility of coming to terms with what had just happened.

_What did I do wrong?_

His stomach sank to the floor and bile rose to his throat. Surely she wouldn't do this. Maybe he'd missed something, maybe it was a prank. Sure, Bianca had never been one for pranks but there's a first time for everything, wasn't there? He even scanned the house for cameras and found nothing.

His phone buzzed and he scrambled for it, praying, hoping, longing for even a singular word from her.

But no, it was just Hawke.

_Heya! You free to hang tonight?_

His hands refused to cooperate, they just wouldn't let him type. And his brain just couldn't get unscrambled long enough to churn out a reply. How could he even begin to describe what had happened?

 _I think Bianca's left_ was all he could manage

 _Left? Like gone??_ She replied in lightning speed.

_Her stuff is gone and I can't contact her._

_Oh shit!!?_

Varric watched the typing animation flash on and off the screen. Hawke must have been struggling to find words too. A message finally pinged through.

_Is there anything I can do to help?_

_I don't know._

_Want me to come over? I can bring ice cream and booze_

_There's no need. I'll be fine._

_Really? I'm already half way over_

_I guess if you're sure._

_Of course I am! See you in a bit_

With a heavy sigh, he collapsed onto the couch, head in his shaking hands. It felt as if he had a hole where his heart should be. A bronto could have knocked him over and he wouldn't care to live enough to get back up before it closed in on its finishing strike. His head, his chest, his hands and his heart all ached for her.

His hope that it was all a misunderstanding was fading and fading fast. He kept checking his phone, almost every minute. Just in case.... just in case...

There was a knock at the door, startling him to his feet.

“Bianca!?” He croaked, hope erupting from him, unable to squash it back down.

On unsteady feet, he scrambled to the door, heart pounding, chest clenching. He flung it open only to find Hawke, equally out of breath and leaning on the wall, clunking grocery bags in each hand.

“Did you run here?”  
She shrugged, “If my boss asks, I have violent diarrhoea.”

He shook his head exasperatedly, unable to even let a smirk free. He led Hawke to the living room.

“Shit...” She murmured, looking around, “Everything's gone.”

Varric sat back down on the couch, his whole body once again feeling awfully numb.

“I'm not going to be a very good host tonight.” He warned.  
“It's cool. I know where everything is. You just... chill.”  
“Thanks, Hawke.”  
“It's really no problem. I'll go put this ice cream in the freezer.”

Moments later there was a horrible rattling, the sounds of things falling off shelves and what seemed like things being thrown into the bin.

“Are you okay in there?” He croaked through his hands.  
“Yep! Just eh... getting rid of a few things you don't need any more.”  
“Like what?”  
“Well, Marmite for one thing.” There was a loud clunk suspiciously like a jar being dropped in a bin, “What was it Mother used to say? Don't trust anyone that likes Marmite.”  
“...I trusted her.”  
“Shit,” She swore, “I... I'm sorry. Do you want anything? A drink? Ice cream? A pie? I even bought a chocolate cake from that fancy Orlesian place you like.”  
“Water... I think I'm going to be sick.”

Hawke quickly came back through with a glass of water and sat down beside him, sighing loudly and fidgeting with her hands.

“I honestly didn't think she had it in her... Urgh! What a bitch!”

He flinched at the word. It didn't seem deserved. Even though she had just left him, with no explanation, that word still somehow seemed too harsh.

“Sorry but I just...” She sighed and groaned, “...but anyone capable of this” she motioned around the half empty room, “is a really shitty person.”

The two sat in silence, Varric taking small sips of his water.

“Did I do something? I keep thinking and thinking. I don't think I told her to have a good day this morning when I left. And I forgot to do the dishes the other day...”  
“That wouldn't drive someone away if they _really_ loved you.”  
“She always told me I wasn't serious enough... that fantasy and books weren't going to help anything.”  
“Fuck her! That's one of the things... one of the things people love about you! If she can't love you for that then she doesn't deserve you.”  
“She was so special... I don't think there'll ever be anyone like her.” He sighed, putting a hand over his eyes, “I love her...” He fought back against the tears threatening to break free, “I love her so much it hurts.”

The silence in the room was heavy and full of hurt while Varric tried to wrangle with his raw emotion. Hawke placed an unsure hand on his shoulder and sighed.

“I'm sure you know by now that I'm shit with words and feelings and stuff.” She paused, as if expecting an affirmative reply, “And nothing I can say will ever make you feel better. Shit, I swear half I ever say just makes things worse.”  
He shook his head feebly, “I appreciate you being here for me. I really do.” He swallowed down a hot lump that could very likely have been bile, “But don't let me make you feel like you need to be here.”  
“What? Why would you think I'd think that? I love hanging with you, Varric. I _chose_ to come over, remember?”

Her blue eyes stared into his and fresh sobs emerged, the lump turning out to only be suppressed emotion.

“And what I was trying to say was... I guess the best I can do is make sure you eat and give you a hug... if you want one.”  
“I would like one actually.”

In that instant, he felt firm arms around him, pulling him into Hawke's chest. He could hear her heartbeat, fast, but regular, like a steady marching beat.

“I'm here for you, Varric, and I'll be here as much as you need me.”  
“Thank you.” He managed to croak before the dam of his eyes broke and tears cascaded to the floor.

His hands gripped onto her as if for dear life as the world crumbled around him. The world he knew, the world he made for himself and Bianca, the world he assumed would last. What did he do wrong?

“Well,” Hawke sighed as Varric pulled away from the embrace, “Do you want me to put anything on for dinner?”  
“I don't really feel like eating.”  
“You really should eat something.”

He nodded faintly and shrugged his aching shoulders, watching Hawke's shoes make their way to the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything while I'm up?” She called out, “Your Wicked Grace pack?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want the TV on?”

Again, he shook his head.

“A beer maybe? Or something non-alcoholic?”

He shook his head once more, although this time a spark of a smile flitted across his face.

It was almost funny, Hawke had always insisted – even bet – that she didn't have a gentle bone in her body. She'd proclaim that the plight of the unfortunate was lost on her and everything, but here she was proving herself (once again) a liar. And not a good one at that.

“Is that a smile?” Hawke asked, her own face lighting up, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve.

He shrugged, the smile fading. He'd barely realised it was there in the first place.

“I'll go put something on,” She sighed and hauled herself off the sofa and into the kitchen.

There was some clanging coming from the kitchen once more, but it was nowhere near as threatening as before.

And then he was hit with the realisation.

This was really happening.

It was as if the past few hours had been a daydream, an absent thought, as if the hurt and pain he had felt wasn't real. Now he was feeling the wound fresh and new once more.

Those eight years had been for nothing.

“You know...” Hawke muttered, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts. “I wouldn't mind staying the night if you don't mind me crashing on your couch. Bu-but if you want your space then please say. I really don't know what would help in a time like this.”  
“I don't think you're as bad at this as you make yourself out to be.”  
“Well I think you're biased.”  
“If you were shit at this then I _would_ tell you. Make no mistake.” He chucked weakly, his chest still hollow.  
“Maybe, but that doesn't stop you from being biased, you know.” She laughed, “And if you don't think I'm shit at this then just ask Carver.”

She sighed and fell onto the couch, a smirk on her face.

“You know,” She began, “One time when we were back in Lothering, a shit load of years ago now, we were climbing a tree and he fell. I tried to stop him from crying by tickling but that just made it worse. So one hospital visit later, it turned out he had a cracked rib. And that was the day I was branded the shittiest sister in existence. But he _was_ being a shit though so...” She shrugged her shoulders in that way (that only ever seemed to be extended to Carver) that meant _'oh yeah, he definitely deserved it.'_

When she turned her head back to his, she hadn't expected Varric to have been watching. But he was.

“Could you tell me another story?”  
“It's a lot of pressure, you know! Telling a story to a writer? That would be like you smuggling for me.”  
“I think you'd be surprised.” He smirked, maybe half of his usual playful charm showing. “Do you really think I get _all_ my money from writing?”

She cocked her head to the side, an interested look on her face.

“Well anyway, eh...” She mumbled, “let me think of a worthy story then.... what should it be about?”  
“Anything.”  
Her lips pursed and her brow slid down her face, “What about... Did I ever tell you about that time I accidentally broke into a brothel?”  
“You haven't, but I'm hardly surprised.”

She settled beside him, getting comfy.

“So, let's set the scene. Athenril gave me a job of recovering a package from an abandoned warehouse... or so I thought. No idea what was supposed to be in it and I wasn't letting my curiosity get the better of me again and getting my wages docked. Which, if you work for Athenril, means getting none.”

He nodded, wondering if all she was spouting was nug shit. If his eyes weren't so blurry and his body so numb then maybe he'd have been able to focus enough to know. But having words, any words, spoken to him right now was enough.

“So I go to the place and the door is locked.” She shrugged, “I wasn't surprised or anything, but the front entrance was far too visible so I went around the back. The docks had just amped up their security. Right, so I went to the back entrance and picked the lock, no hard task there. So then I went inside and began sneaking around, looking for the parcel. I thought there may have been a straggler or two looking for loot – I wasn't going to discriminate – but there was far too many people here. And they were all wearing basically nothing.

So one of them, a fucking Tal-Vashoth no less, approaches me and asks, “Excuse me, Messerre?”,” She deepened her voice, but made it breathy too. It was probably supposed to be erotic; and it may have been if it wasn't so hilariously bad, “Are you here for the orgy?”

“What did you say?” Varric blurted out, lost in the story.  
She snorted in response, “I was tempted, but I was here on business and I didn't want to get in trouble... again. So I tracked it down from a very cleverly hid place... in a room where a group of elves were getting better acquainted, shall we say.” She paused to giggle, “And I got out of there before I could see anyone that could take my fancy. And anyway, I'd already spent my wages in advance on alcohol... I think. Probably alcohol.” She sighed, a nostalgic look in her eye, “Those were the days.”  
“What I don't get is why the Blooming Rose wasn't good enough for them.”  
“From what I saw, they were doing things in this place that made the Blooming Rose look like a day care.”

He chuckled weakly, but it was a chuckle nonetheless. Hawke seemed to puff up with pride at that, until she jumped to her feet and shouted something about a lie? A pie? He hoped it was about pie. The numbness had faded a little and it faded into hunger. And he felt the need to eat every highly calorific thing in sight.

Hawke had brought cake and ice cream, hadn't she? She really was a blessing.

When Hawke came through brandishing two plates of pie – Fereldan of course – Varric was feeling gloomy again.

“Am I unlovable?” He murmured as Hawke sat beside him.  
“No!” Hawke said, not missing a single heartbeat.  
“You're my best friend though. I mean, a friendship love is different to a romantic one.”

Hawke lowered her eyes to his hands for a moment, her brows crinkled together.

“Honestly, I'd love to be with someone like you. You're smart, caring, handsome, charming and somehow you always smell good... it's almost scary.”  
“Someone _like_ me. But not me.” He mumbled.  
“Yes, someone _like_ you because I wouldn't want to lose you because you're too damn important to me.”

He nodded slowly. That made sense.

“And you know, I've said it before, I'll say it again. It's not you, Varric, it's _her_. If someone is capable of leaving someone behind with no explanation, then _they're_ a shit. Not the person they've done it to. _Them._ ”  
“What if she had a really good reason?”  
“No reason is good enough for this. _Especially_ if she didn't even tell you _why_ she left.”

He looked into her eyes to see the most sincere look he'd ever seen her give. It was almost uncomfortable, but then she said, “Let's eat up our pies before they get cold, yeah?”

The two ate in silence and the plates put in the dishwasher once they were done. Hawke plonked herself back down onto the sofa once that was done, a bottle of beer in each hand, one of which she handed to Varric.

“Do you want another story?” She asked, her eyes gazing into his.  
“Sure.”  
“So...” She paused, running a hand through her hair, laughing awkwardly. “Never thought I'd tell this story but...” She shrugged, “Back when I was in high school, I met a guy. He was...” Her eyes became distant, “He was amazing. Sweet and kind. I was in disbelief when we started dating each other. I'd had a crush on him for years that I'd always assumed was unrequited, you know?

So we were together for almost all of our last year of high school. He even gave me a ring.” Her face hardened and her shoulders drew up, “And then he went to college in Denerim. I got messages from my friend who also went to Denerim, telling me he was going behind my back with other girls, but I didn't believe her. I didn't think he'd do that...”

Varric put a hand at the back of her head and stroked in gentle circles. Hawke may have seemed okay, but he could tell she felt like imploding in on herself.

“So I went to Denerim, went to see him. And you know what he did? He asked me why I bothered coming. I didn't tell him because I wanted it to be a surprise... And he said; _'You didn't think this was going to last, did_ you?' I know it sounds stupid, but that was when I stopped believing in love. That was when I decided that love wasn't all that, that it wasn't worth the pain.”

She shrugged, her eyes glazed over with traces of tears.

“I... I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to tell you that. It wasn't exactly the cheeriest story.”  
“It makes me feel better to know that I'm not alone. I mean, if someone can do something like that to _you_ then there's really no hope for the rest of us.”

She rolled her eyes at the flattery, but she smirked nonetheless.

“You're not alone, Varric. You know that?”  
“I think I do.”

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


The last thing Varric wanted to do today was trailing through the grocery store, but here he was.

What was he even here for again? Oh that was it, potatoes, bread, eggs... and toothpaste. Going to the local grocers was more his usual thing - supporting small businesses and all that - but he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat today. Maybe he would go tomorrow. Did he need onions too? Eh, probably, he always seemed to be running out.

He picked a pack of onions, put them in his basket and was about to make is way over to the potatoes when he saw a familiar mop of black hair.

His heart began pounding through his chest and his fist gripped onto his basket as if for dear life. But this wasn't the end of the world, as much as his body would like to think it was. He forced himself to breathe and actually looked at her.

She was examining a potato. It must have been an extremely riveting potato by the way she was staring at it. Her hand looked a lot thinner than he remembered it, her face a little gaunt. She looked a little (dare he say it) malnourished. Maybe throwing away her best friend who happened to love cooking wasn't a good idea. She was terrible for forgetting to eat, even at the best of times. She was probably living of instant noodles and potato chips.

Maybe if he was a weaker person then he probably would have walked over there and tried to make conversation. If he hadn't told himself he deserved better and if he hadn't believed it. But no. She'd probably be the same as on the fucking road trip. Rude and obnoxious. And who wants to be around people like that? Not Varric and that was for sure.

What was next on his shopping list? Potatoes? Well, Hawke was still glaring at the potatoes as if she'd never seen one before so he'd have to come back for them.

It didn't take him long to get everything on his list and go back to get potatoes so he thought he should maybe get something as a treat for when the weekend rolled around. The gang was meeting at Merrill's this Friday, for the last time before Satinalia finally descended upon them, and it would be rude of him not to bring anything. Especially as she rarely had anything that was to his... taste.

He was about to turn into the alcohol aisle when he realised Hawke was there. Shit, he'd have to go into a different aisle and waste time looking at things he didn't need, didn't he? But then he thought about it. What was the point?

Fuck it. There was no point in changing his life for someone else's benefit when they didn't deserve it. That lesson was learnt the hard way and he'd be damned if he had reason to learn it again.

With his head held high, he strode past her as she examined the wine on show. Probably to see which had the highest alcohol content for her money. Good for her.

He popped a few beers in his basket and made his way to the checkout, grabbing a bar of chocolate as he went. Why not? He certainly deserved it.

Hawke soon joined a nearby queue, staring blankly at her phone. At least she didn't try to look at him. Maybe she'd finally learnt her lesson. And if she had then good for her. She can live her miserable, empty life full of pointless vices far, far away from him.

Why did his chest hurt so much though?

Never mind, he had more important things to think about... like cooking. And his friends. The ones that didn't treat him like shit, anyway. At least he would be out of there soon, he was next in line to be served.

“Excuse me, Messere?”

He shook himself from his daydream to see the cashier watching him with beady eyes.

“Yes?”  
“I em... Sorry but are you Varric Tethras?”  
“That I am.” He smirked, albeit a bit forced.  
“I'm a big fan of your books!”  
“Why thank you!” He spoke the ever familiar words. “It's always nice to meet a fan.”

If he didn't know any better then he'd swear he could feel Hawke staring at his back right now. And if he didn't know any better then he would have cared.

But he definitely didn't care.

Instead, he listened to the cashier's attempt of an analysis of Hard in Hightown's symbolism as he packed his shopping into bags, resisting many strong urges to roll his eyes. He thought he should probably sign something for her, so he scribbled a signature on a shopping leaflet, eliciting a squeal from her. She was so excited that he could have walked out without paying and she wouldn't have noticed, but he wasn't that kind of person.

And so, with that chore out of the way, he headed back home to make himself the cheesiest pasta in the Free Marches, light some candles and do some writing.

Oh and maybe pop in on Merrill and her new sausage dog too.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“Are you Marian Hawke?”

The woman in question looked up from behind her messy fringe, eyebrow raised and arms folded.

“Who wants to know?” Her tone was sharp and she spoke quickly.  
“How do you do?” He nodded, his most charming smile on his lips, “Varric Tethras, at your service.”  
“Nice to meet you.” She smiled back, albeit a little forced, “What do you want?”  
“I've heard you're good at getting things you're not supposed to.”  
“Did Athenril send you?”  
“I can assure you, she didn't. The name Hawke is on a lot of lips these days, not bad for a Fereldan fresh off the boat.”

She looked him up and down, her head tilted to the side slightly, a slight twinkle in her eye. He hadn't really noticed before what she was wearing. A worn, black leather jacket, ripped jeans and boots that were threads away from ceasing to exist entirely. He couldn't quite tell if it was a look that bore from a fashion choice, necessity or just a lack of funds. Probably a mixture of the above.

“I'm going to assume you have a job for me then?”  
“How do you feel about journalism?”  
She shrugged, “Depends what it is, I guess.”  
“Well, maybe I can give you the details over drinks? It's not exactly something I'd want to speak about too openly.”  
She raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall, “Are you flirting with me?”  
“Perish the thought!” He chuckled, raising a hand to his chest, “Trust me, if I was flirting with you then you'd know.”  
“Well, you sound like you have a place in mind.”  
“Have you ever been to the Hanged Man?”  
“I've heard of it at least.”

They made their way there, Varric using every ounce of charm he had to make her not so suspicious of him. It was good though, he wouldn't want someone too trusting for this job.

He'd already booked a booth, far enough away from the prying eyes and ears of the bar.

“So, what's the job?” Hawke asked, wasting no time.  
He lowered his voice and sat forward, leaning his arms on the table, “I have word from a good source that the Qunari are trying to get a foothold in Kirkwall's politics.”  
“And?” She shrugged, “What's new?”  
“Well, my information leads me to believe that there's an agent of the qunari somewhere in the Viscount's Keep.”  
“Is it the Viscount?”  
He had to stifle a chuckle, there was no need to offend, “No, I have no reason to suspect that it's him, but I still don't know who it is.” He leaned in further, “And that's where you come in.”

Her brow furrowed in thought for a moment, their drinks clunking onto the table, thanks to Norah.

“Right.” She mumbled, her brow moving up and down slowly as she made sense of the words, “Okay, so I'm supposed to find that out.”  
“Exactly.”  
“And how am I supposed to do that?” She asked, the beer bottle already at her lips.  
“Work there undercover. I've already forged an application for a role high enough to get you close.”  
“Wait, what!?”  
“The pay is good, though.” He continued, trying to distract her from the previous comment, “And I'll be paying you extra out of my own pocket for any information that you have.”  
“Why can't you just do it?”  
He let out a booming laugh, “I'm surprised you have no idea who I am!”  
“ _Should_ I have an idea?”  
“I'm an author and columnist, pretty famous around here as far as Kirkwall's writers go. If I went in there then people would get suspicious. Plus, I have enough work to do with my writing to keep me busy.”  
“Well, maybe I'd know who you are if I ever bothered to read.”

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Oh, so she was one of _those_ people. She narrowed her eyes, probably in response to his changing facial expression.

“So what kind of pay are we talking about here?”

He took out a small envelope from his inner jacket pocket and slid it over the table. She opened it swiftly, frowned for a second her head tilting to the side slowly.

“Wa- wha- what?” She exclaimed, her eyes darting from the paper to him then to the paper again, “You're going to pay me _this_ much? You must be loaded!”

It was true that he was willing to give her a decent amount of money, but for her to react like this, she must have not had much money to wave about. He almost felt bad.

“I'm staking a lot on this. It's a big risk, but if it works out then we'll both be richly rewarded.” He leaned back, taking his beer in his hand, “What do you say?”

She bit her lip, her yes still flickering from the paper, to him, to her drink and back again.

When she finally spoke, she said, “I feel like I need to know you better before I can answer that.”  
“You don't read so...” He rummaged in his pocket, “Do you play Wicked Grace?”  
“I haven't in a while.” She watched him take out his pack and shuffle, “Wait, do you carry that around with you all the time?”  
“Why not?” He shrugged, “Never know when it's going to come in handy.”

A smirk spread over her face and she settled into her seat, reaching for her hand.

“Ladies first?” He asked.  
She snorted, “I'm _barely_ a lady. You first.”  
“Should I be offended?” He chuckled, putting down a card and replacing it with another.  
“Naah. My family on my Mother's side was Kirkwall nobility back in the day, but the thought of sitting around in a fancy dress, waiting to be served on?” She shuddered violently, her nose crinkling.  
“Kirkwall nobility?”  
“She was an Amell.”  
“Aah.” He nodded, watching her take her fist turn. Interesting.  
“So you're a dwarf then?”  
“What gave it away? Was it my height?”  
“You're strange for a dwarf though.” She mused, “Where were you born?”

He'd have been exasperated by this question coming from anyone else, but he was equally interested in her life, so he didn't let it get to him.

“Kirkwall. Born and bred here.”  
“It shows.” She said, taking her turn, yet watching him intently, “Would you ever live in Orzammar if you could?”  
“Andraste's tits, do you know what Orzammar is like?”  
“A bunch of dwarves living very dwarf-y lives?”  
“A place where the rich trample over the poor in a political system that's already been the downfall the city. Plus... I'd miss the sunshine.”  
“It's too sunny up here.” Her smile faded, “I miss Fereldan.”  
“Why did you leave?”  
“Same as any other Fereldan here. There isn't much work down there.”  
“Fair enough.” He sighed, choosing a card to discard, “You don't seem like most of the other Fereldans though.”

She raised her eyebrow and glared at him. Shit, had he hit a nerve?

“You're digging yourself a hole there, dwarf.” She spoke, an edge to her words but a smirk on her lips, “Either you insult me or you insult my people.”  
“Maybe I'll stop while I'm ahead, then. I _was_ going to say you seem well educated for someone that doesn't read.”  
“Mother insisted we have enough pointless knowledge of history and world affairs to help us if Kirkwall ever came knocking for it's nobility back. Fat chance though.”

“So... do you have siblings then?” He asked, his curiosity getting the better or him.  
“A younger brother and sister. Twins.”  
“And they are...?”  
“Bethany, she's a teaching assistant and Carver. He's... insistent on joining the army.”  
“Interesting.”  
“How so?” She peered behind her choppy fringe.  
“I would have pegged you as a middle sibling. But now... I guess I can see you being the eldest.”  
“You knew enough to fake a job application for me and yet you didn't know that?”  
“You got me there.” He chucked.  
“What about you?”  
“I'm a professional younger brother.” He chuckled, watching her eyebrows crease, “I know, some die of boredom, but me? Having Bartrand as my brother keeps me on my feet.”  
“Wait... Bartrand? _Bartrand_ Tethras is your brother?” She watched him nod, “Holy shit! You two are nothing alike.”  
“I'll take that as a compliment.”  
“You should!” She scoffed, taking a long drink.  
“How do you know him then?”

She blew a raspberry and rolled her bright blue eyes, “Went to him about a job.”  
“Let me guess, he waved you off within one second because you weren't a dwarf.”  
“I didn't think that it was because of that but... Yeah, that makes sense. How do you tolerate him?”  
“Barely.” He chuckled, having completely forgotten to take his turn for ages now. Luckily Hawke had done the same.

“I have another question for you then.” She said, leaning her chin on her fist, “Are you spoken for?”  
“Why, are you interested?” He chuckled, but left no time for her to answer, “I'm actually recently engaged. And you?”  
“Nope.” She said, rather firmly, leaning back and taking a card.  
“Aah, so there's no-one you left behind in Fereldan?”  
She shook her head an blew a raspberry, “Free as a bird. Being tied down has never worked for me.”

_I'm sensing a story here._

“Sounds like someone I know.”  
“And who would that be?” She gave him a quizzical look.  
“Don't know if you'd know her. Isabela?”  
“From Rivain?” He nodded. “She's taught me much about how I want to live my life.”  
“Yeah. She's good at that.”

Varric turned his phone over in his hand and turned the screen on, looking for the time. He'd thought it had maybe been half an hour? But no, it was closer to two. What the fuck?

“I hope you don't have anywhere to go.”  
“Nope.” She spoke, typing something into her phone, “Not anymore anyway.”

He took another drink from his bottle, watching her in the process. The stories he'd heard about her seemed true, if exaggerated. There definitely was a person behind those snarky comments and that mess of raven black hair.

“So,” He said, lowering his bottle to the table, “Have you thought about my offer then?”

She sat for a moment, her eyes drifting to the table, her face changing expression a hundred times a minute. Her mouth pursed and twitched to the side and he recognised this as her biting the inside of her mouth.

“Sure.” She finally said, “What do I have to lose? At least the money's good.”  
“So it wasn't my irresistible charm that convinced you?” He chuckled, holding a hand to his chest, feigning upset, “I must say I'm offended.”  
“That _was_ a deciding factor.” She laughed, running a hand behind her ear. He'd only just noticed how flushed her face was. They _had_ drunk more than they'd intended to.  
“Well then, lets' celebrate, shall we? You hungry?” She nodded eagerly, “You like nachos?” She nodded once more and he waved Norah over.

She took her phone in her hand once more, frantically typing a message, exasperation hiding between her eyes.

“Everything okay?”  
“Long story short, Carver's an ungrateful little shit.” She rolled her eyes and blew her fringe out of her face, “I'll need to head soon. Nachos first though.”  
“Good thing you've got your priorities right.”  
“Well, it's not exactly a Fereldan chicken pie but...” She shrugged, “I haven't actually had any decent Fereldan food since leaving there to be honest. Other than stew but... that doesn't really count. I mean, it's infamous for tasting shit. For some reason.”  
“Or so I've heard.” He mused back, sitting back in his chair.

A large plate of nachos were placed between the two, Varric immediately grabbing a chip and holding it aloft, as if it were a glass to toast with.

“To a partnership.” He smiled.  
“To a friendship.” She replied, raising her own chip.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


Not long after that Satinalia finally rolled around and Varric - as always - decided to have a party for his best friends. If the anger had subsided more then maybe he would have wished that Hawke would turn up. But no, he was staying resistant. He needed to toughen up, otherwise she'd never take responsibility for what she'd done. She wasn't getting off the hook that easy.

So he cooked a nice meal and invited everyone over, an event which was quickly becoming tradition within his little group of close friends. Spending Satinalia alone was definitely the opposite of what he needed right now.

For once, no-one was late. It must have been a Satinalia miracle! The group gathered around his dining table, gift giving being first on the agenda. A cook book from Merrill, some fancy whiskey (no doubt stolen from her work) and a new leather jacket from Isabela, some Antivan chocolates from Zevran (he'd have to send him his thanks later), a notebook from Bethany and a cooking set from Fenris and Anders.

“Oh before I forget, I actually have some presents from Hawke too.” Bethany spoke from behind her new book about historical Orlesian fashion.  
“Really?” Isabela asked.  
Bethany nodded, rummaging in her bag, pulling out parcels and reading the labels. Everyone had one, even him.

Hesitantly, he tore open the festive wrapper to see an unmarked CD case, and inside, a CD with “ _For Varric_ ” written in permanent marker. A Satinalia card with a mabari on it fluttered down from inside the case, too. He opened it, preparing himself for the worst, but all that was written in it (other than the pre written Satinalia message) was; “ _Sorry I was a shit, Varric. You're right. You deserve better.”_

That was... unexpected to say the least. He'd have to wait to listen to the CD later, Maker only knows what would be on it.

“So what's _actually_ been going on with Hawke then?” Anders asked, looking over at his present.  
“What do you mean?” Varric asked, fully aware of what he meant.  
“Well, she went all funny and stopped hanging out with us.”

Varric opened his mouth, but thought better of what he was going to say and closed it again.

“You look like you know something, Varric.” Isabela smirked, as cool a fucking cucumber.  
“Well...” He sighed, sinking back into his chair, “There's no point trying to defend her when she's... been acting how she has.”

This game of Wicked Grace was probably never going to be finished, was it? He took a deep sigh, lowered his eyes from the faces of his friends and began.

“After Hawke's birthday, she and I woke up in bed together... having quite obviously done things together the night before. Neither of us could remember, mind.”  
“Maker's breath!” Anders cried.

Varric caught Aveline's eye as she gave him a strange look, her head tilted and brow furrowed, as if doing an intense calculation in her head.

“And starting from that day,” He continued, “she and I had a 'friends with benefits' agreement.”

The group was in stunned silence, everyone's eyes fixed upon Varric. Isabela's face had an annoying smirk as she leaned forward and took a drink. He ignored her, licked his lips and continued.

“It went on for a few months until about mid Bloomingtide, when she just left after spending the night, lying about having to go to work.”  
“I... may not know a lot about how those things work, Varric,” Merrill quipped, watching him curiously with her big green eyes, “But isn't that the point?”  
“What do you mean, Daisy?”  
“Well, I watched a movie and one of them would leave as soon as the hanky panky was done. To stop any feelings from happening. That's what they said, anyway.”  
“Well, ours _was_ like that the first few times, but after a few times we'd hang out. You know, eat something or watch something, just as we usually would before it started...”

He tailed off, realising how tightly he was gripping his fists, the words steadily getting more and more difficult to force out.

“But after this time she just blanked me. Refused to speak on the phone and would ignore me if I saw her in person. She'd completely refuse to open the door to me if I tried to visit her.”  
“But what I don't understand is why she refused to see any of us.” Aveline spoke.  
“She was happy to see me,” Isabela quipped up, “Just as long as Varric wasn't there. It was group meet ups that she stopped going to.”  
“But why ignore Varric?” Anders asked, looking around the table.  
“Kitten,” Isabela chimed in, turning her attention to Merrill, “Just wondering... how did that movie end?”  
“Well, it turns out they fell in love with each other! It was really sweet, actually.”  
“I think that's your answer, right there.” She smirked, sitting back and taking a drink.

Varric's eyes glanced around the room. The table seemed to be nodding in agreement, or at least enough of the table to make his stomach flip. Maker, he wasn't drunk enough for this.

“I don't think...” He croaked, fumbling for the words, “It's surely something else... I mean why would she...”  
“Oh come on, Varric! For someone so observant you're terribly thick.” Isabela moaned, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, “Even if she _hadn't_ told me then it would still be bloody obvious.”  
“She _told_ you?”  
“Oh yeah! When she was completely shit-faced at Aveline's wedding, she cried and told me everything. Not that I hadn't already sussed what was going on between you two. She didn't remember any of it in the morning though.”  
“Typical.” Fenris sighed.  
“You only knew what was going on before because I told you, Rivaini.”

She shrugged and stuck her tongue out, playing with her hair.

“Since you're the only one of us that really knows...” He turned to Bethany, the words bitter on his tongue, “How's she been doing, Sunshine?”  
Bethany's face turned stony, her eyes glazed. “I guess... I really don't know. Up until yesterday I hadn't seen her much in months. I'm beginning to doubt everything she's told me. She seemed sad though... and lonely..”  
“I always make a point to check in on her, whether she likes it or not.” Aveline spoke, “Last time I went I'm pretty sure she hadn't left her flat in days. All she seemed to do was smoke weed and watch Antivan TV shows. And not even any good ones. Those ones on channel 20.”

Varric sighed deeply. He knew exactly the shows she was talking about and they were the cheapest and worst TV that Thedas could muster up. Even Hawke herself once said that you need to be severely lacking brain cells to enjoy that crap.

“At least she's not going out all the time any more, getting pissed and sleeping with strangers.” Varric grumbled, finding his hand around his drink, the glass touching his lips.  
“She can find strangers to sleep with from the comfort of her own home now, though dating apps. She seems to be doing well on it.” Isabela's smile turned saucy, “There was this one guy who had a tonne of piercings – you'd probably know him, Fenris – and he even had his di-”  
“I think that's enough, Rivaini.” Varric sighed, suddenly feeling nauseated, fighting back against unwanted memories “I just think that it would be nice if she could sort her shit out so things can go back to the way they used to be.” He watched Isabela's eyebrows bounce on her forehead, “ _Before_ her birthday.” He added

The group unanimously nodded in agreement as Varric unceremoniously used his whiskey to swallow down his feelings about her. He didn't _want_ feelings for her, he didn't _ask_ for them. All he wanted was to feel _nothing_ at the sight of her. To feel _nothing_ at the sound of her name and _nothing_ at the sound of her voice. But when was his brain ever that kind?

“Well,” Varric sighed, lowering his glass from his mouth, “Is anyone up for another round of Wicked Grace?”

  
  


The rest of the night seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, a blur of bad jokes, good food and party games. One by one, everyone left until it was just him and Isabela.

“How are you doing?” She asked him, helping him carry plates and dishes to the kitchen.  
“Good enough.” he sighed, trying to cram as much as possible into the dishwasher.  
“How are you feeling about Hawke?” She mumbled, as if she was some taboo topic.  
“Mixed.”  
“That's understandable.” She paused for a moment, her head tilting to the side. “I know I joked a bit tonight. I think I maybe went a little far-”  
“It's fine, Isabela. I know you wouldn't mean to offend.”  
She nodded. “You know I'm here for you, right?”  
“You've been here for me since this whole mess started. Now what's this about? You don't get like this without a reason.”  
She sighed deeply, arms folded and head lowered. “I think the presents are Hawke's way of trying to apologise. Or at least it's a start.”  
“Are you about to ask me how I'd feel if she was back in the group?” He asked, closing the dishwasher with a clunk.  
“Yeah.”  
“I meant what I said. I _do_ want things to go back to how they used to be, but only if she's willing to apologise and not act like a shit again. That's all I ask. So yes, she's welcome, as long as she's changed and willing to own up for her own actions.”

Isabela nodded and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I should head soon. I don't want to be caught in the drunken midnight mobs.”  
“You better get going then. It's ten to.”  
“See you soon, Varric.” She smiled.

And with that, she let herself out.

With everyone gone, Varric's let his curiosity get the better of him. He'd wondered all night what could possibly be on that CD, what she possibly could have decided could be worthy of an apology. The CD was put into the player and the play button pressed, Varric wincing in anticipation without even realising it.

A familiar guitar strum played through the speakers and he knew immediately what song it was.

“ _Loving you isn't the right thing to do  
But how can I ever change things that I feel?  
If I could maybe I'd give you my world  
How can I when you won't take it from me?_

Suddenly it felt like he was back on that road trip. Maker, he'd actually put that song on in the car to try to get a message across to Hawke.

_You can go your own way  
You can call it another lonely day  
You can go your own way”_

That memory was still far too raw in his mind so he skipped to the next one and sure enough, it was another favourite song of his. It had been playing in the background once when Hawke had come over to see him and do... other things. Again, the memory hurt way too much to listen to any more of that. It almost felt as if she was trying to achieve something with these song choices.

The next song had been playing in the car that night they went to the 24-hour drive-through just outside of the city for a midnight snack, way, way before her birthday. She had had a shitty day at her old job and was intent on telling him every last detail with her mouth stuffed with fries.

Another song had been playing in the background that time they all played strip Wicked Grace. Hawke pretended to leave just before everyone else, but really she just waited in his bedroom until the others had gone and then they played the game again... just the two of them...

Every song had a memory attached. Every song made him think of her. Every single one of the nine songs. Was _that_ her intention? To bring back memories that all seemed to hurt one way or another? But then he listened to them all, (or at least the intros) over and over, pondering about it as hard as his mildly intoxicated mind could.

And then he realised. Hawke didn't care about music as much as he did, she wouldn't have remembered all these memories and moments that Varric etched into his mind one by one. To Hawke, these were just his favourite songs. _She_ was so entwined with his life – and had been for so long – that everything seemed to remind him of her and these songs were no exception.

“I need to find some new music to listen to.” He grumbled as he turned the radio off and reached for his whiskey, grateful for the sound of silence.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said part two would be up in February and what do I do? Put it up on the last day of the month. Oops!  
> Some of you may want to re-read at least part of Hawke's POV because there may be a detail or two that isn't obvious at first, but those details may just burn a whole in your heart. I warn you now.
> 
> No idea when the next part will be up, but be ready for Hawke's attempt at redemption!
> 
> Stay safe in the snow everyone!


	3. The Pirate's Log

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long to get finished

Visiting her sort-of-used-to-be best friend wasn't exactly how Isabela had wanted to spend the afternoon, but it was necessary. She knew no bridges would be rebuilt without a lot of effort on her side. Unfair, yes, but that was life.

It took two minutes of banging the door and endless messages and phone calls to finally get Hawke to open it. The smell of weed bombarded her nostrils the moment the door opened. How lovely.

“Oh- Isabela?” Half dressed in manky clothes, hair a birdsnest and her face smeared in what was hopefully only yesterday's makeup, but at least she actually answered.  
“Well, it's nice to see you're still alive.”  
She rubbed her eyes and stiffled a yawn. “I wasn't- em, do you want to come in?”  
“Sure.”  
“Just, eh-” She shifted her eyes and bit her lip. “Give me a sec.” And she dashed back inside, scrabbling sounds coming from within.

A few moments later she reappeared looking even more dishevelled than before. And yes, that _was_ possible.

“Right, so the place is a tip so-”  
“When isn't it?” Isabela smirked, practically pushing her way inside before Hawke could change her mind.

Well for once, she wasn't exactly lying. Had it ever been this bad before? Isabela dreaded to think. Plates of half eaten mouldy food were littered across the room and had obviously been used as ashtrays. The windows and blinds were open, but judging by the rubbish lying underneath the windowsill, that was probably what Hawke had raced back in to do.

Isabela hesitantly took a seat on a lesser stained piece of sofa.

“Can I get you anything?” Hawke mumbled.  
Aah, yes. The quickest way to get food poisoning. “No, Sweetie.” No need to risk her own health for the sake of being a good guest.  
“Okay.” She settled down on a rather imprinted piece of sofa - her throne of crumbs and litter - brought her knees up and collapsed in on herself. “What are you here for then?”  
“I just wanted to see you. That's all.”  
“Oh. Okay.” Her lip quivered a little, but she rubbed her nose to hide it.  
“Why? What were you expecting?”  
“I don't know. I thought maybe you were here to return my Satinalia presents. I mean, even I wouldn't want a gift from me.”  
“No, everyone actually liked their gifts.”  
“Oh.”

With her eyes firmly set on her knees in front of her, Hawke lit her cigarette and took a draw. Oh wait, yeah, that was definitely a joint. Typical.

“And I don't know what was on that CD, but it seemed to do something.”  
Hawke's eyes bounced up in an instant. “What do you mean?”  
“I thought Varric would be angry about you forever. I mean, he'd have good reason to, but he's actually said you'd be welcome again at Wicked Grace nights.”  
“H-he did?”  
“I know. It surprised me too!”  
“That's... That's good.” She mumbled, looking past Isabela, eyes glazed and distant again. “Has he... em, did he say anything about... me and him?”  
“What, the friends with benefits?”  
Hawke's eyes widened and she disappeared even further into her shoulders. “I guess that's a yes then.”  
“He told everyone, but I already knew. He told me just after you ran away.”  
“He did?”  
“Yep.”  
“So all this time you knew? Maker's balls...” She sighed, rubbing her face with her hand, “So everyone knows, then?”  
“That they do.”  
“Shit...”

For a moment, she looked as if she was going to be sick, but instead, she took a deep draw, closing her eyes and letting the smoke flow from her lungs.

“Not to impose on a peaceful moment,” She butted in before Hawke could take another draw, “but you _do_ realise that you fucked up?” Isabela pushed.  
She sighed and put an arm over her eyes without even opening them. “Yes, Isabela. I know I fucked up. Happy now?”  
“See, I don't think you're quite getting it. You _really_ fucked up, Hawke.”  
“I know.” She grumbled.  
“Well, I'm going to make sure that you know it.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Hawke's hands clamped over her eyes as she tilted her face to the floor, her teeth sunken into her bottom lip.

“Did...” Her voice came out small and shaky, so she started again, “Did Varric mention Bianca at all?”  
“I know that he met up with her, then you shouted at her and he shouted at you.”  
Hawke flinched, her lips pursing. “Yes, but has he seen her since? O-or spoken to her?”  
“No idea.” She shrugged.  
“Right.” She sighed, despondently. “I mean, I know it's not my place to say, but I think being involved with her again will only get him hurt.”  
“If I didn't love you to pieces then I'd say the same thing about you.”

Hawke 's mouth snapped shut and she put the blunt to her lips once again.

“I mean it though, Hawke.” Isabela spoke, her voice maybe a _little_ firmer than intended, “You leave him high and dry, just as he begins to hope that maybe something good could come of your little arrangement.”  
She tilted her head, the cogs in her smoke-filled brain working overtime. “Something good?”  
“You weren't the only one to fall in love, you know.”  
“I-” Her gaze fell to the floor and a hand to her chest, a crooked smile worming its way out. “W-what?” She laughed, an empty hollow thing.  
“You heard me.”  
“But I-”  
“You're _still_ in denial?”

The smile faded, horror dawning on her pretty little face. Aah, so it _finally_ sunk in.

“Shit.” She whispered, eyes wide, her hands balling into fists. “So it wasn't just me?”  
“Nope, he was smitten. I'd never seen him so happy. I'd never seen either of you so happy if I'm honest.”

She sat still and silent for a good few minutes until she reached for her lighter with a shaking hand. Smoke bellowed out as she took a long, long draw, enveloped even further by her own body, her eyes squeezed shut and tears speckling her eyelashes.

“Do you realise _now_?”

Hawke nodded, her lips so tight they might break, but her eyes still shut.

“What made you do it, Hawke?”  
“I... I don't know, I got scared.”  
“You got scared?”  
“Yeah.”

Okay, so not much of an explanation there. She took a draw, her eyes bright red, tugging a hand through her messy mop of hair.

“Are you going to try to make it up to him?” She sighed, watching Hawke struggle to suppress her emotions with yet more weed.  
“Yeah.” She mumbled.  
“What are you going to do?  
“I don't know. Speak to him?”  
“I think just telling him 'I was scared' isn't going to do much in your favour.” Hawke nodded slowly. “You're going to have to figure out your own head first.”  
“Yeah.” She swallowed.  
“He still blames himself for what happened, you know. For the longest time he was so sure he'd done something to make you run away.”  
“Shit.”  
“Did you really think he _wouldn't_?”  
“No, I- I guess I'll come clean to him then. It was never him. He was just...” She shook her head, the words forced through her teeth, whether she realised or not . “He deserves to know it wasn't his fault.”  
“You do that, sweetie. I think he really needs to hear that from you. Will we be seeing you on Friday then for karaoke?”  
“I'll do my best.”  
Isabela let out an exasperated sigh. “You better.”

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“ _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!  
Happy birthday, dear Hawke... Happy birthday to you!”_

Hawke's birthday cake was placed cake slap bang in front of her, blazing with only twenty-one candles, as per her request. Being reminded of her actual age always pissed her off - and who could blame her? Of course, she wasted no time blowing out her candles, a smirk on her face as she reached for the knife and cut herself a sizeable chunk.

“What did you wish for, Hawke?” Varric asked.  
She grinned, crumbs of chocolate cake lining her gums. “If I tell you then it won't happen.”  
“You Fereldans and your superstitions.” He grumbled, but not without mirth.

With the birthday cake thoroughly enjoyed by all (especially Hawke), Isabela made the concious decision to tidy away the abandoned Wicked Grace cards.

“Excuse me?” Varric scoffed.  
“I have a much more interesting game we can play.” Isabela smirked.  
“Do you now?” Varric asked, an eyebrow arched in mild annoyance.  
“No offence, Varric, but how many times have we played Wicked Grace? No, I'm thinking we play a few rounds of ' _Never have I ever'_!”  
“Oh shit.” Hawke sighed exasperatedly, before a wicked grin escaped, “Let's do it!”  
“And _how_ do we play that?” Varric asked.  
“Everyone takes turns to say something they've never done and if you've done it then you have to take a drink,” Isabela took a drink then, as if demonstrating, but she actually just wanted a drink, “I'll go first. Never have I ever...” Her eyes darted around the room before widening in thought, “Never have I ever been in a relationship.”

Everyone at the table seemed to hesitantly take a drink. Except Merrill.

“Wait, so I take a drink if I've been in a relationship?”  
“Yes, Kitten.”  
“Oh, okay!” She said, but she didn't make a move to put the bottle to her lips. Bless.

Isabela threw a look over to Anders, who looked at her blankly.

“We're going in the order of the table. So it's your go, cat man.”  
“Oh, right!” He pursed his lips in thought, his eyes darting around the room. “Never have I ever... had a tattoo.”

The whole table took a drink, other than Anders. It was hard to say who's revelation was the most shocking.

“You have a tattoo, Varric?” Fenris asked, curiosity getting the better of him.  
“It seems my secrets out.” He chuckled.  
“I've seen it.” Hawke gloated, throwing a wink to Varric who gave her back an attempt of a stern glare.  
“What is it? What does it look like?” Isabela prodded.  
“Alas, I'm sworn to secrecy.” She smirked back, shrugging nonchalantly.

Isabela rolled her eyes. Knowing Hawke, she'd probably find out by the end of the night anyway.

“Shall we get back to the game then?” Isabela asked.  
“Oh shit, it's my turn, isn't it?” Hawke chuckled, her cheeks bright pink, as if she wore blush, “Right, never have I ever...” She drummed her fingers on the table.  
“Come on, spit it out!” Isabela cried.  
“Never have I ever been thrown up on.”

The table groaned and around half took a drink, including Isabela.

“You've thrown up on _me_ enough times.” Varric snorted to the sound of similar grumbles from others saying almost the same thing.  
“Yes, I thrown up on _you_ , but I've never been thrown up on _myself_.” She stuck out her tongue. “Now, if I'm right in saying, it's Fenris' turn.”

He grunted and lowered his drink. “I have never-”  
“It's ' _Never have I ever'_ , lanky.” Isabela snorted.  
“Yes, okay.” He cleared his throat and sped through his admission. “Never have I ever owned a pet. Your turn, Merrill.”

The words were off his tongue before any questions could be asked. Anders was positively twitching with curiosity, poor thing.

“Right then, okay!” Merrill chirped, giggling away. If Hawke's cheeks were fiery then Merrill's were aflame. “I have never...”

A few eyes darted towards Isabela, expecting her to correct Merrill, but why would she? Merrill was _Merrill_.

“...um...”  
“Need a suggestion?”  
“Yes please!”

Isabela leaned over and whispered a helpful suggestion. Merrill smiled and nodded.

“-given someone a blow job!”

Varric choked mid drink, sending a spray of beer flying over the table, much to Isabela's delight. It took him a long while to stop choking and begin to breathe again. To be honest, Varric's reaction was funnier than Merrill's confession.

Once the hilarity wore off (after a long time, mind you) the group turned their attention to Aveline.

“All right.” She sighed, raising her hands in defeat, “Never have I ever got so drunk I've thrown up.”  
“Well, there's a first time for everything!” Hawke cheered, leaning over the table awkwardly to nudge Aveline's arm. “Weddings are a good time to have a first, aren't they?”

She rolled her eyes in exasperation and took a sip of her orange juice. It was obvious that Aveline was internally complaining about her forced sobriety. Who _doesn't_ get the day after Hawke's birthday off? Anyone with any sense would know well enough to ask for it months in advance and threaten anyone that would stand in their way.

“My turn again then.” Isabela cooed, her statement ready to go, her eyes flickering to her victim. “Never have I ever had sex in a chantry.”  
“Who would?” Varric laughed.  
“Yes.” Isabela repeated slyly, “Who would?”

Her gaze rested on Hawke, who was giving her evils, trying to hide the fact she was taking a drink, quite badly so.

“Hawke?” Isabela sighed, “Is that a nice drink?”

She coughed and nodded, her bottle clattering to the table.

“Hawke!?” Anders cried, “What in the void?”  
“What? Did I miss something again?” Merrill cried.  
“Did I just see you taking a drink, Hawke?” Fenris asked, his mouth twitching into almost a smile.

She coughed and took another, her eyes darting around the room. Varric's reaction _had_ to be the funniest, though. Sitting there, eyes wide, slack jawed. He must have realised what he looked like because he quickly closed his mouth, but his eyebrows refused to go back down.

“U-um, who's go is it now?” Hawke stammered, looking towards Anders, but not meeting his gaze.  
“No, wait!” Anders cried, half way towards laughter. “I'm not having my go until you answer this. Did you or did you not have sex in a chantry?”

She said nothing, only took a drink, her silence speaking volumes.

“Hawke?”

She nodded slowly, her lips tightening to hide a smirk, her eyes meeting only the remains of the birthday cake.

“Holy shit.” Varric muttered, hiding his mouth with his hand.  
“Now Anders, does that suffice?” Hawke grumbled, eager to keep the game going.  
“I guess.” He sighed, “Never have I ever been with a- _someone_ that has a tattoo.”

His gaze flickered towards Fenris as the table drunk. Why hadn't those two already fucked yet? It was getting rather annoying now.

Although, thank goodness Isabela didn't have to drink for every individual tattooed person she'd slept with. How many would that be? Maker, there wouldn't be enough fingers in the world to count.

“My turn again!” Merrill cheered, taking no notice of the fact that it was in fact Hawke's turn. Maybe it was because Hawke had practically melted into her chair. “Never have I ever...”

Isabela leaned past Hawke and gave her another idea. A rather... _strategic_ idea.

“Ooh, that's a good one! Never have I ever wanted to have sex with someone sitting at the table right now.”

Awkward glances were exchanged around the table as everyone other than Aveline and Merrill took a drink. Isabela eagerly looked for who looked at who, glad she had nothing to hide. To be honest, she'd made it pretty obvious she'd fuck anyone other than Anders. Once was enough.

Hawke seemed to catch Varric's eye for a split moment, before they both jerked their heads away and took a drink. Maybe she was onto something here.

“Okay, here we go!” Isabela cried, ignoring the order of the table, “Never have I ever fucked a dwarf.”

Anders, Varric and Hawke all took a drink. Wait, Hawke? Now _that_ made things more interesting.

“Your turn, Varric!” Isabela cooed.  
“But it's not-” He stopped sharply when Isabela kicked him under the table.  
“Fine, fine.” He grumbled. “Never have I ever had sex with a human.”

Hawke's eyebrows darted behind her fringe and her lips pursed as she raised the bottle to her lips. Really interesting.

“Really?” Isabela pushed, as if she didn't already know. “But you would?”  
A smirk grew on his face, “What, are you interested?”  
“You know I'm a sucker for good chest hair.”

He laughed heartily and sat back in his seat. Hawke's face blushed anew and she reached for another bottle of cider, finishing half of it in one go. Very interesting, but it wouldn't be the first time Isabela's flirting had caused Hawke to drink herself into a coma.

“Not to disrupt this... game, but shall we head to the Hanged Man now?” Aveline asked for the millionth time. “If we don't leave now then we may never get a table, let alone one big enough for the whole group.”

The group turned to Hawke. It _was_ her decision at the end of the day.

“Yeah, why not.” She shrugged, probably grateful for the change of topic.

The group grumbled, checking the time on their phones, gathered their things and downed their drinks.

Unsurprisingly, they _did_ in fact get a table big enough for all of them, since Varric had reserved one earlier. More drinks were ordered and many more were bought for Hawke by people she didn't even know and Varric, true to his word, was trying his best to keep up with her.

“So...” Hawke cooed, leaning into Varric, “You know in _Never have I ever_?”  
“Yes?”  
“Who did... which friend do you want to have sex with?”  
“Shit, I'm not going to answer that Hawke.”  
“Aww, really? Even if I tell you mine?”  
“Yes, Hawke. Some secrets are supposed to stay that way.”

To an outsider, you would have thought that Varric had only had a few bottles of beer, maybe a shot or two. But no. He was still matching Hawke's drinks, in strength and quantity, as per her request.

See, the trick to finding out how far gone he was, was to watch him carefully. He swayed slightly, ever so slightly, his hand resting on the table, reaching up to rub his chin every other minute. Instead of his usual proud posture, he was slouched back in his chair, no longer chin up, looking for a story to tell, treating the chair like his throne and the room as his stage.

So yeah, for the first time in a long time, Varric was well and truly sloshed.

“I'll tell you mine anyway.” Hawke giggled.  
“It's Rivaini, isn't it?” He sighed, his lidded eyes looking over to her.

Hawke only giggled and leaned into Varric's neck, whispering something Isabela annoyingly couldn't hear, but Varric's face lit up like a cigarette, bright red and burning. And he shuffled uncomfortably. Isabela didn't have to wonder why his seat had suddenly become so uncomfortable.

“Wha- really?” Varric swallowed.  
“Well, I'll let you decide if I'm telling the truth.” Hawke laughed, hauling herself up from the table to the toilet, stumbling as if she had an invisible leg she was tripping over.

“So...” Isabela slid up beside Varric in Hawke's absence, “Care to tell me what Hawke said?”  
“Not a chance.”  
“Awww, you're no fun! Was it me she wanted to fuck?”

He gave her a glare that may have actually been intimidating... if he wasn't steaming.

“Okay, okay. I'll assume it _was_ me then.”

He rolled his eyes and took a drink, but he refused to meet her eyes again. Interesting. Maybe Hawke held the answers she was looking for.

“Thank you for this enlightening conversation.” Isabela smiled, rising from the table.

And with that, she took her leave and darted into the bathroom before Varric could figure out her rather obvious plan.

“Isabelaaaa!” Hawke cheered at the sight of her, “Buy me a drink, it's my birthdaaayyyy!”

She was a pretty funny sight, her hands covered in a shit tonne of soap, unable to even turn on a tap to wash it off. Was a push tap _really_ so hard to work out?

“You sure you haven't had enough?”  
“Naaaah. Cocktail jug please! They're not strong!”  
“If you insist... but I _do_ have something you might think is better.”  
“What?”  
“Something we can smoke.”  
“What?”  
“Herbs.”  
“What?” Hawke was starting to sound like a parrot. “Like elfroot?”  
Isabela let out a deafening laugh, struggling to keep it from making her piss herself, “No, silly! Weed!”  
“Oh. Okay!” She smiled, her lidded eyes creasing, “Yes please!”

  
  


“So you've never had this before then?” Isabela asked, handing the joint over to Hawke, who took it between her fingers like an amateur pro.

It was relatively quiet that Saturday night. Maybe it had something to do with the fact it was weeks till pay day. Fortunately, it meant that they had the smoking area (as in the street outside the bar) to themselves.

“I have ages ago.” She hiccuped, turning into a cough, “But it was ages ago.”  
“Hold it in your mouth before you breathe in.” She borrowed the joint for a second. “Like this.”

Hawke attempted to do so too, looking rather ridiculous with her mouth wide open and full of smoke. If there was ever a way to make it obvious, that was how.

“So...” Isabela asked, “Care to tell me what you told Varric?”  
“When?”

Any other time she would have thought Hawke was playing dumb, but by the blank expression on her face as she exhaled through her nose, she actually believed her for once.

“At the table.”  
“I said I wanted more alcohol.” She said, plainly.  
“When you leaned in? Like to his neck?”  
“I did?”  
“How drunk _are_ you?”  
“Good at hiding it, thank you!” She smiled, before her brow furrowed in concentration of taking another draw.

Maybe another approach was needed to this questioning business.

“So, if you could fuck any of us out tonight, who would you fuck?”  
“Everyone!”  
Isabela pursed her lips, “Just one person?”  
She shook her head quite rapidly for someone so pissed, “No, I said I'd fuck everyone!”  
Still getting nowhere. “Varric's pretty hot though, isn't he?”

Hawke was silent for a second, completely still apart from awkwardly swaying to the side. Isabela almost considered waving a hand in front of her face when she stumbled sideways into a wall, shoulder first, colliding with an “oof!”

“You okay there, party girl?”  
“I'm so happy... you're my friend.”  
“Are you okay?” She repeated.  
“Gon... be sick...”  
“I thought so.”

Isabela shoved her further around the corner. Sure, the Hanged Man's bouncers were known to let people smoke weed in front of them, but be sick in front of them and you won't be allowed back in for hours. This was an _emergency_.

Isabela shoved Hawke out the way, throwing up the moment she made it around the corner, making ungodly noises, clutching at her stomach with one hand and onto Isabela with the other. Thank the Maker it was projectile, otherwise it would have gone all over her and her streak of not being sicked on would have been broken only by herself.

“Let's take... a selfie...” She groaned, reaching in her pocket, a cheesy grin on her face.  
“Wha- why?”  
“I'm not gonna remember thisss.”  
“Sweetie, that's a good thing.”

She managed to locate her phone and took a few pictures, terribly unflattering ones at that. She wasn't planning to actually put those pictures up, was she? The selfie taking duties fell to Isabela instead, it seemed. She sighed and took the phone of her, taking a few with decent lighting in which Hawke _wasn't_ bent over for the life of her dear organs. Now _those_ were worthy of being tagged in.

“Are you done being sick?” Isabela asked, leaning Hawke against a wall and handing her phone back.  
“Yeah.” She moaned hoarsely, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, “I need a drink.”  
“I'll buy, birthday girl. I promised you a jug, didn't I?”  
“You did! Fuck yeah!!”

The bar had somehow become even less busy since they went out. It was probably going to become dead soon. What time even was it?

“Hawke!”

Oh great, here came Aveline and they hadn't even made it to their seat yet. What was it this time? Probably a reminder not to drink alcohol in excessive quantities. Oops, too late!

“I need to head off. I have work early tomorrow, as I'm sure you know.”  
“Oh yeah, okay!” She nodded, stumbling over to the table, gaining momentum as she went, heading straight for Varric and crashing into him almost hard enough to push him off his seat.

She took the empty seat beside him and wormed an arm around his neck. Varric just looked at her with a look of resignation. Hawke was at that rare hands-y stage it seemed.

“Varric.” Her steel voice cut through the room, “Are you okay to look after Hawke?”

Isabela smirked. She didn't seem to realise how drunk Varric was himself and by the look of the table, they seemed to have done shots since they'd been outside.

“Sure, Aveline!” He smiled. “She'll be fine!”  
“Thanks, I'll rest a lot easier knowing that.”

And with that, Aveline took her leave.

Hawke leaned in closer to Varric, a hand only inches from his prized chest hair. _Now_ she was in dangerous territory. He arched an eyebrow, but he seemed far too pissed to care. And yet Aveline put Hawke's safety in the hands of _this_ man? Terrible.

“Do you think....” She whispered seductively, as if she was about to describe how she'd throw his clothes off and ravish him, “...a mabari would win in a fight against a dragon?”  
“A dragon would win, obviously.” He snorted.  
“But think about it!”  
“I have, Hawke. Dragons can breathe fire!”  
“Yeah but a mabari would become friends with the dragon!”  
“Naah.” He sighed, taking another drink, leaning into Hawke's arm more, their gaze meeting.  
“I bet ya.” She smirked, batting her eyelashes.

Hawke's hand reached from behind his neck, down his back to his butt. It reappeared a second later with his phone in her hand, yet Varric didn't even notice. Isabela was glad that for once she wasn't as drunk as Hawke. How would she have enjoyed the show otherwise?

“Mabari are cool as shit though.” She mumbled, engrossed in his phone, “They're like WOOF WOOF WOOF! And dragons are like RAAAHH!”  
“Oh Hawke.” Isabela giggled to herself, watching the bar staff give them weird and worried looks.  
“But a dragon would set the mabari on fire!”  
Hawke's face dropped in open-mouthed horror, as if she'd seen it happen right before her eyes. “No!”  
“It's what would happen, Hawke!” He leaned over the table to Isabela, “Back me up here, Rivaini.”  
“ _I_ think it would be a draw.” Isabela sighed, not wanting to interrupt the show.  
“See, I told you!” Hawke beamed.  
“No, the dragon would _definitely_ win.”  
“You wanna take this outside?” Hawke asked, moving even closer, her face mere inches from Varric.

To be honest, if Isabela didn't know them better then she would have thought they'd suck face right then and there.

“Maybe I do.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Maybe we will then!” She snorted, trying to keep a straight face.

She grabbed his hand and ran outside before Isabela could give chase. When she did, she found them nowhere to be seen. The only trace of Hawke she found was the pile of sick from earlier. Hawke was bad enough for running away on nights out but now she had Varric doing it too? That woman was a bad influence. Well, not that Isabela could judge.

 _Where are you?_ Isabela texted. _  
Chainzzzzzz_  
_Are you still with Varric?  
Yuh_

Wait, no way! Varric? At Chainz? Now this she had to see! She grabbed her things from The Hanged Man and scrambled her way over, praying she'd missed the crowds.

Unfortunately not. The queue was annoyingly long and they had a new guy on the door so getting in took almost twenty minutes. Ugh, why couldn't Jason be on the door tonight?

By the time she finally got in, the pair were annoyingly nowhere to be seen. Not in the club room, not in the cheese room, not even in the bathroom, plus they refused to answer their phones. She even had Jason keep an eye out for them. He swore he'd seen them, but thought they'd left ages ago to go to another club.

Annoying, but oh well, their loss. Maybe Zev would be up for some dancing? She sent a quick text to see if he was out tonight. No need to end a good night so soon.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“You came!” Isabela cried at the sight of Hawke, almost knocking her over with a running hug.

The excitement may or may not have been to do with the fact that she'd earned herself a sovereign or two from her faith in Hawke, but the happiness was real, nonetheless. There was definitely a strong whiff of weed coming off her once again. Oh, Hawke.  
“That I did.” Hawke sighed back, visibly trying not to reel at the sudden physical contact. After a moment, she loosened into it, as if accepting her fate.

When Isabela drew back, Hawke flashed a smile that may have been cardboard, but it was just so undeniably _Hawke._ Maker, she'd missed her. She took the furthest spare seat from Varric and huffed a sigh of what was probably relief.

Speaking of Varric, he didn't seem to even get a glance. But she'd made it, she was in his presence without any immediate problems, so credit where it was due.

“I'm so glad you're back, Hawke!” Merrill chirrped, practically bouncing on her chair.  
“I'm happy to be back. I'm...” She rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes darting to the table, “Sorry I was so shitty to you all.”

The table shrugged and nodded in uninterested agreement as money changed hands under the table. Hawke didn't seem to notice though, she was to busy attempting to look Varric in the eye. It must have been for the first time since... the argument, maybe?

“...Especially you.” She mumbled over to him, probably for her sake more than his.

His face softened in slight surprise, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking right now. Hopefully not too about how much he hated her. But it would be understandable if he was.

She swallowed and cleared her throat. “And I'll buy everyone a round too.”

 _That_ certainly had the group's attention. Hawke took a mental note of what the table was drinking and made her way to the bar, even though she knew well enough that table service existed. It was more of a strategic move, it seemed. Hopefully it wasn't to avoid Varric because he shot to his feet and followed.

“Oh, hi Varric!” Hawke spoke, her voice frustratingly saccharine.  
“Hey. How are you?”

There was a pause and Hawke's eyebrow twitched and she scratched the back of her head. Was that _really_ such a difficult question to answer? Well, maybe for her.

“You know, I've not answered that question honestly in months.” She tried to hide behind a laugh so fake it made her ears bleed, “There's really no point in asking, but if you want an answer then...” She shrugged, “I'm fine. You?”  
He paused a moment before answering, “Same.”  
“Look-”  
“Could we save this for another time, maybe?” He sighed, exasperatedly. “I just want to forget about my problems right now, not be reminded of them.”  
“Oh, yeah. Sure.” She mumbled, her hands clasping together and twisting at the wrists, “So... did you have a good Satinalia?”  
“Good, yeah.” He sighed, “You?”  
“I... saw Bethany. That was nice.”  
“Yeah, Bethany said she hadn't seen you in a while. Did anything happen?”

She gave him an unintentionally piercing look, took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Mmh, yeah. But as you said, I'm here to forget about my problems.”  
“Oh, right. It's nice to see you again, though.”  
“Thanks for giving me another chance.”

He smiled and looked as if he was about to pat Hawke on the back, but instead he lowered his hand and made his way to the table, shaking his head. He was doing well though.

Hawke soon followed with a tray full of drinks, more than enough for everyone to have multiple. Fuck, she must have been _desperate_ for redemption.

“So, Hakwe.” Isabela smirked, her first targeted question of the night already on her lips, “How's work going?”  
“Shut up.” She groaned, slamming Isabela's drink in front of her, but an underlying mirth prevailed under her frown, even if Isabela couldn't quite tell how forced it was.

Hawke settled into her chair and took a drink, her lips lingering on the glass, her eyes scanning her friends.

She cleared her throat, “So... what did I miss then?”  
“We moved in together.” Anders grinned, nudging Fenris, who nodded with a wine glass to his lips.  
“Oh, congrats.” Isabela wouldn't have noticed her eyebrow twitch if she wasn't looking for it.  
“I got a sausage dog! Millie!” Merrill squeaked, scrambling to show her pictures on her phone. Isabela was still chuffed at that present idea.

Any tension on her face left her when she saw pictures of Millie, replaced by somewhat disbelief.

“Oh, cute! And she has a bow tie! How did I not see that coming?”

The group fell silent. Well, if he wasn't going to toot his own horn then what were friends for?

“Hey Varric,” Isabela smiled, earning a look of suspicion back, “you won columnist of the year in the Kirkwall Times, didn't you?”  
“I did, yeah.”  
“Oh, congrats.” Another cardboard reply and a plastic smile came from Hawke.

The group sat in silence for a few moments. That seemed to be the extent of the news, or at least, what people were willing to tell Hawke.

“So, umm anyway... who's up for karaoke?”  
Merrill's ears practically picked up at that, “Oh, me! I'm in a very sing-y mood tonight!”  
“Want to do a duet?”  
Merrill practically gasped, bless her. “Yes!” She cried, scrambling for the song book. “What kind of song do you want to sing?”  
“I'll let you chose Merrill.”  
“I think I have the perfect one!”

Merrill grabbed Hawke's hand and dragged her up to the DJ. No chance of escape now. It seemed Isabela wasn't the only one that had missed her.

“So...” Isabela cooed, sliding into Merrill's abandoned seat beside Varric, “How are you doing?”

His eyes darted towards the rest of the table, but only Aveline seemed likely to listen in. Anders and Fenris were too engrossed in each other, as usual.

“What actually happened between Hawke and Bethany?” He asked, curiosity getting the better of him.  
“Well, it was actually more Hawke and Carver. But yeah, Bethany took Carver's side.”  
“Ah, what about?”  
“Him leaving for the army.”  
“Oh, so is he going?”  
“He's already gone.”  
“Oh.” He sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair, keeping it there, “When was that?”  
“Months ago now.”  
“Really? When about?”  
“Erm... around the time she stopped speaking to you, actually.” Her eyes darted back and forth, doing frantic calculations in her head, “Like, that week?”  
As if he needed to feel any worse. “Right.” He mumbled.  
“Yeah, so Bethany took Carver's side and they stopped speaking for a bit. Well, quite a bit. And then Leandra blamed Hawke for letting him go... from what I pieced together, at least.”

He nodded slowly. Aveline had definitely been listening in too, but her face was uncharacteristically unconcerned.

“She didn't say.” Varric muttered, starting to actually look sorry for her.  
“Yeah, well... Shit hit the fan at the family dinner on her birthday and she didn't say anything about that. Had to prise the info out of Bethany or I wouldn't have known.”

Varric dragged his hand down his face, eyes steeled on his drink. After a moment, he had already downed it.

“Don't let that change how you feel about her though.” She said quickly. He'd done so much growth recently, no need to throw it away.  
“But all that time, she didn't even have Bethany?”  
“She _had_ people,” Aveline spat, anger simmering just below the surface, “she just chose to ignore them. Don't let her make you think otherwise.”

Aah, so Aveline was still bitter about being the only one able to look after Hawke. Not that anyone could blame her.

“What did you all think?” Merrill cried, bounding over.

The group shared a joint look of shock. Shit, they hadn't even realised that they'd been singing.

“It was great, Daisy!” Varric smiled, “Good song choice.”  
“You pick the best songs.” Isabela chimed in.  
“I definitely haven't missed your singing, Hawke.” Fenris smirked.

The two sat back in their places and Hawke started rummaging in her pocket. She'd not long got here and she was already going to go for a smoke? Oh, Hawke.

Aveline – however - was staring at Hawke, her disapproving look somehow worse than usual. That conversation must have gotten her riled up.

“Why did you do it, Hawke?” Aveline spoke, her firm voice jerking Hawke from her thoughts.  
Her head shot up. “Eh- huh?”  
“You know what I'm talking about.”  
Hawke was melting under Aveline's gaze – and not in a good way. “There's a thousand things you could be talking about, you know.”  
“Why did you stop being part of the group?”

Hawke let out the breath she was holding, her shoulders slouching just a little. Obviously not the question Hawke was expecting. But she shrugged with a weight in her shoulders even Isabela didn't expect.

“I was going through a rough patch and I didn't want to be a burden to anyone. Yes, it was silly, but at the time I thought it was the best thing to do.” She inhaled through her teeth and reached for her glass, having had just put it down, “There you go, that's my answer.”  
“I thought Aveline was going to ask about the friends with benefits-”  
“Merrill I-”  
“No, no. It's fine.” Hawke sighed, resigned and yet more tense at the same time, “I take full responsibility for that. It was my idea, I wasn't in a very good place-”

 _When are you ever?_ Isabela stifled down the urge to say.

“-and it seemed like a good idea at the time. Plus...” She exhaled quickly, which was probably supposed to be a chuckle, but it sounded more like a kick to the chest; a wheeze. “I'm not good at feelings or that.”  
“Evidently so.” Fenris mumbled.  
“I guess I just wanted to be alone.”  
“And yet you were happy to have me coming round to the house like a bloody housekeeper?” Aveline snarled.  
“You did kind of force your way in.”  
“You _know_ I wouldn't have actually got a search warrant. For one thing it would be an abuse of my power and two, I wouldn't want you to be arrested for possession of illegal drugs. What kind of friend do you take me for?”

Hawke didn't reply, instead, she slunk down a little in her chair and took a drink.

“Now, I get it. I _know_ what it feels like to not even be able to get out of bed. I _know_ how it feels to find even opening the curtains the hardest thing in the world. I _know_ what it feels like to not want to live in the world any more. That was how I felt when I lost Wesley, so I understood, I really did. Depression is shit, but you took the fucking biscuit. Even when you could – and I _know_ you could – you were happy to let me do all the work while you lie there ignoring me and smoking enough weed to make the whole bloody neighbourhood smell bad.”  
“You didn't _have_ to come round.”  
“Are you not even understanding how I felt or should I put it into easier words for you? It was like having to look after someone's Mabari that – in fact, I don't think anyone would trust you with their pets.”

Holy shit, Hawke was getting the piss brutally ripped out of her and yet no-one could take their eyes away from it.

“It was like owning a Mabari that you _know_ has shat on the floor before you've even opened that door. You have to clean it up though, because the dog certainly won't.” She leaned in closer, arms folded on the table. “But you know the difference between you and a dog, Hawke?”  
“No?” She breathed, tensed as if she could run any moment.  
“ _You_ can go to therapy.”

Rest in fucking pieces, Hawke.

Isabela cast a glance over to Varric, who seemed to be holding a hell of a lot in. His brow was furrowed and his lips pursed, as if opining them would mean spilling the past seven months to the world.

“I- eh. I'm going for a smoke.” Hawke mumbled, fumbling for her things. She took all her things; her bag and her jacket and made a swift exit to the door. Oh no, she wasn't doing this without a stern word.

As suspected, Hawke was about to walk right past the smoking area. She wasn't running away without a fight.

“Hawke?”  
“Shi- Isabela!”  
“Going somewhere?”  
Her face scrunched up and she folded her arms. “I... I can't take it.”  
“What, owning up to what you've done?”

Hawke gave her a hurt look but it did nothing. Not when she was prepared to run away. She finally realised what Hawke reminded her of; a stroppy child.

“It feels like everyone is against me. Including you.”  
“Don't you think we have the right to be?”

She stared at her feet. Why was she making it so fucking hard not to slap her right now?

“Will you stay if I give you a joint?”  
“I have plenty.”  
“Well, if you run away now, you're going to make everything worse. Do you think they're going to want you back if you run away for the... what, third time?”  
She sighed rather dramatically. “Point taken.”  
“So just have a smoke, have a chill and then we'll go back inside and straight to the DJ and request a song before anyone else can question you. Okay?”  
“Okay.”

The pair smoked their cigarettes in almost complete silence, Hawke intermittently checking her phone and nervously glancing around. The light of the cigarette flickered as her hand shook, even while taking a draw. Had Isabela ever seen her so shaken before? And was it bad that she actually found it satisfying?

“It's been a hell of a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.” She mumbled, scraping the last of the cigarette with her feet.  
“Suddenly burning all those bridges doesn't seem like such a good idea any more, does it?”  
She took a deep sigh, her head shaking slowly. “No.”  
“Let's head back inside then.” Isabela sighed, flicking her butt into the bin and linking arms with Hawke. Mostly so she couldn't run away last second.  
“Sure.” Hawke reluctantly replied, allowing herself to be dragged back in to face the music.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“Hawke?” Isabela called out, “Please tell me you're in here!”  
“Ye-” The sound of a heavy, dry heave echoed around the small bathroom, “Yeah, I'm-” and another heave, “I'm here.” Her voice was weak, but recognisable.  
“Which stall?”

A familiar shoe wormed its way under a door, so that seemed as good a guess as any so she peered her head around. Hawke's head was firmly planted so far inside of the toilet that she could have actually been licking it. That didn't seem to be doing much though.

“I see you didn't quite manage to keep it all in the toilet.” Isabela mused, giving Hawke what little toilet roll was remaining to wipe her face, although she was far too gone to be able to use it.  
“Ahmmm....” She groaned, “I guess not...”  
“Are you done being sick?”  
“A- almost?”  
“Good. Then I can get you home.”  
“Home? Naah... Mo-” She hiccuped, “Mo- More-”

An explosion of sick catapulted out of Hawke, who was making noises like a squashed nug. Charming.

“No more of anything, sweetie. You've had your fun and now it's time to go home. Now are you done?”

She moaned, but nodded feebly, letting Isabela gather her up off the floor and wipe the worst of the sick off her. What a lovely top that used to be. Sober Hawke would be so pissed when she found out.

On their way out she grabbed Varric and stumbled outside before Hawke would be kicked out. Her face lit up at the sight of him, a stupid, toothy grin spreading unapologetic all over her face.

“Vaaaaarrrriiicccc....” She grinned, pulling at his shirt, awfully close to Varric's prized chest hair. Yet, he didn't even flinch.  
“Yes Hawke?” He chuckled, “Can I help you?”  
“I want...” She attempted to whisper.  
“Yes?”  
“...you...”  
“Me?”  
“... to give me...”

He looked at her expectantly as her eyebrows bounced on her forehead, her loose mouth turning up, into a cheesy smirk, her eyes catching the streetlights and twinkling brightly.

“... a fuck.”  
Isabela tried to stifle a laugh but it came out as a snort instead. “How much _did_ she drink?”

It was no secret that if Hawke was planning to get so plastered that she couldn't even walk herself home then there was no stopping her. But Varric just shook his head, exasperation written all over his face. It was a wonder why he put up with her sometimes.

“You know, Hawke,” Isabela smirked, “I'm awfully surprised that Varric _hasn't_ given you a fuck before.”  
“Oh no I yes he I have!” She slurred, apparently astonished by this revelation, “He's a … good he's good real good... He does knows how to...”

She raised her hand in front of her face, as if it were a foreign object, hypnotised by her own wiggling fingers.

“Hawke, we really don't need to hear about your human dreams, thank you very much.”  
“ _I_ do!” Isabela giggled, “Please tell me more! What was his dick like?”  
“Gooooood...” She smiled, a satisfied look on her face, nodding slowly, savouring the thought, “Yeah, it's like... hard and... good.”  
Varric snorted, shaking his head and rubbing his temples. “I'm so glad we cleared that up. I'm just grateful she's not going to remember any of this in the morning.”  
“She will if I video it!”  
“Don't you _dare_ , Rivaini.”  
“Or what?”  
“I'm hungry.” Hawke butted in, “Can we get food?”  
“If you do that then I won't allow any cheating at Wicked Grace.” Varric said, ignoring Hawke.  
“Fine... fine...” Isabela sighed, waving an indifferent hand, “But anyway, Hawke. Was there any roleplay?”  
“Maker's breath.” Varric sighed, his palm hitting his head.  
“Ummm... no we just fuck but it was...”  
“Good?” Isabela finished.  
“Yeah good and... nice...” She giggled, giving Varric another toothy grin as if she couldn't keep her joy down. She actually looked kind of cute for someone who had just thrown up the entire contents of her stomach.

And now it seemed to be time for a musical interlude, thanks to Hawke. She sloppily sung away to herself a song that Isabela swore she knew but couldn't put her finger on. It didn't help that she wasn't even singing intelligible words.

“What song is that?”

Varric, who was always so careful with his facial expressions, gave Isabela a rather startled look. It was kind of unnerving.

“I don't know. No idea.” He mumbled, looking away.

Without so much as a warning, Hawke lunged forward onto her knees beside Varric, their heads almost colliding as she tried to pull him in by his shirt collar. A sly giggle flew from her mouth, but he twisted his head away and hauled her back onto her feet.

“Hawke, I really hope that wasn't intentional.” He sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “Andraste's tits, I'm glad she's not going to remember this.”  
“Just lemme...” She moaned, still trying to pull him in to her boobs, taking advantage of the height difference.  
“No, Hawke.” He said dryly, “You're drunk.”  
“That didn't stop... us before?”

Isabela's eyebrows practically jumped off her forehead.

“ _Excuse me_?” She chortled. “What was _that_?”  
“What do you mean _what was that_? Drunken gibberish, that's what it was!”  
“Well it sounded awfully like it came from experience.”  
“She's drunk, Rivaini. She barely knows who she is!”  
“She obviously knows who _you_ are.”  
“Maferath's ass.” Varric grumbled, “If you're going to be like that then _I'll_ take her home.”  
“Considering the topic of conversation, that's pretty suspicious.”  
“Need I remind you that _you're_ drunk too, Rivaini.”  
“Have you not noticed that I've not been drinking any alcohol tonight?”

She watched him wrack his brain, knowing it to be true.

Meanwhile, Hawke stopped walking, gripping her hand into Varric' shoulder, doubling over, “...gu... guys imma... lil'... uh-”  
“Shit, don't you dare throw up over me-”

A waterfall of dark green spew erupted from her and she almost toppled over head first.

“...fuuuuuck...” She moaned, “...that was... hurt...”  
“I don't think she'll make it to yours anyway, Rivaini. My place is a lot closer.”  
“Fine. At least she can spew all over _your_ place.”  
“And she can clean it tomorrow.”  
“No...” Hawke moaned feebly, as if she was stirring from a nightmare, “No clean... just... tired...”  
“Don't you _dare_ go to sleep, Hawke.” Varric grumbled, shaking her back to somewhat conciousness.  
“...tiiiiiired...”  
“Yes, but just save it for bed.”  
“Yes! Save it for _Varric's_ bed!”  
“But...” She turned to him, her face crumpled in what was probably confusion, “Did you wash... sheets?”  
“Yes.” He grumbled.  
“And why exactly would Varric need to wash those sheets, may I ask?” Isabela piped up, ignoring Varric's muttered curses.  
“... messy...” She mumbled, her lidded eyes crinkling, “... lots of mess... always mess...”  
“Ohoho!” Isabela laughed, clapping her hands together, “I think for once, Hawke is more trustworthy than you.”

He groaned and put his arm around Hawke's waist, guiding her hand to his shoulder and he pulled her away from Isabela.

“Hey, wait!” Isabela called over, even though they were still going a snail's pace, “No need to get so touchy!”

Varric seemed to think it better to walk in silence, so Isabela followed suit, although Hawke seemed intent on telling passers by of how drunk, hungry and tired she was. Oh, and how much she really, really needed to pee.

Thankfully though, they soon found themselves at Varric's. It took almost all of their strengths combined to haul Hawke up the stairs to the apartment and once they made it inside, (after a much needed toilet break) her sick stained clothes were quickly stripped off her and some borrowed clothes from Varric shoved on her. The results of a human wearing clothes tailored for a broad shouldered dwarf was just as you'd expect. Pretty fucking hilarious, especially paired with the blank, braindead expression on her face.

“Oh yes.” Hawke said, looking at the bed as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world, “Clean.”  
“Just get in.” Varric huffed.

She did as she was told (for once) and shuffled about for a minute, muttering about how the world was moving too fast for her and how she really wanted a kebab wrap. Eventually though, sleep took its hold and she stilled.

“I'd offer to let you stay but I'm going to be sleeping on the sofa.” Varric grumbled.  
“ _Really_?”  
“You _believe_ that crap she's been spouting?”  
“How else would she know that sex with you would be... How did she word it? Cool and nice.”

He sighed exasperatedly and ran a hand through his stubble, Isabela's eyes watching his face intently. She knew what she was looking for and she'd be damned if she would find it.

“Do you honestly think I'd take advantage of Hawke when she's drunk?”  
“No, but you _have_ slept in the same bed as her before.” He seemed to notice how closely Isabela was watching his face and his jaw quickly set into place. “Something's going on with you two though. I mean... I've never seen you both so happy and I really doubt it's just the alcohol.”

He didn't reply, he just shook his head and moved his hand from his chin to his hair, as if he didn't know what to do with himself. Bless him.

“You're sweet on her, aren't you?” Isabela sighed.

He paused, a wary look on his face, ready to steel his emotions from her. And yet, when he looked over at Hawke, his eyes seem to crinkle and his brow furrow, ever so slightly.

“That's not a question I can answer right now.” He uttered.  
“And why _is_ that, Varric?”  
“Just leave it. I'm tired. Don't you want to go home?”  
She tilted her head, “I guess.”  
“I'm sure you can let yourself out.”

And with that, he took a blanket Hawke had shoved off the bed and made his way to the living room. Isabela took the terribly subtle hint and left. Maybe playing matchmaker would have to wait a little longer.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


_Let yourself in._ Hawke had texted, _The door's unlocked._

When _was_ Isabela going to get the chance to legally pick the lock on a door? Typical.

A loud crash greeted her in her as she made her way inside, followed by a rather colourful vocabulary of language.

“You okay?” Isabela called.  
“I don't- Fuck! How did Varric make this look so easy?”

She walked in to the kitchen to see... a mess. And Hawke wasn't the only mess for once. Dirty pots and pans littered the small room, the air heavy with the stench of weed and burnt food. Hawke had even managed to get egg in her hair. She stood there with a look of exasperation, in her underwear and a baggy, faded T-shirt that may or may not have had a mabari on it at one point. It was kind of hard to tell.

“Trying to cook?” Isabela snickered.  
“Shut up.” Hawke groaned, rubbing her face and smearing it with Maker knows what. “I give up. I'll order a takeaway or something.”  
“What were you trying to make?”  
“Something edible? I thought I could maybe figure something out with the ingredients I had.”  
Isabela nosied into the most promising pot. “I don't think that's even edible.”  
“Yeah, thanks.” She flung a utensil towards the sink, missing and sending even more mess flying. “Hence why I give up.”

With a huff, the pot was thrown into the sink too, only adding to the pile of washing up. Where was that takeaway app again?

“What do you want to order then?” Isabela asked, scrolling through the local cuisine. “Fereldan? Nevarran?”  
“I'm in the mood for some Antivan actually.”  
“Why didn't you say so? I could have had Zev come over-”  
Hawke snorted loudly and held up her hands, “No thank you. What is it with you trying to get me to sleep with him?”  
“Sleep with him? I meant he could have cooked for you. He's a chef, remember?”  
“Oh yeah. I keep forgetting he has a day job too.”  
“So anyway,” Isabela sighed, nosying through a menu, “Antivan then?”  
“Sure. Wait, what time is it now?”  
“Quarter to eight.”  
Hawke stopped dead. “You're joking, right?”  
“Nope.”  
“Shit! They'll be over in a few minutes and I can't look like this!” She ran towards the bedroom and slammed the door.  
“What should I order, though?”  
“Why don't we wait until the others arrive?” Hawke's voice grumbled through the door. “Fuck, was that the doorbell?”  
“I think so.”  
“Could you get that?”  
“You sure you don't want to answer the door naked?”  
“Oh, haha.” Hawke drawled.  
“Fine, fine, I'm getting it.”

It turned out Varric was on the other side of the door, crate of beer in one hand, his other running through his hair. Well, thank goodness Hawke didn't answer it naked then.

“Come in, come in! Hawke's just getting changed.”  
“Right.” He sighed, following Isabela to the kitchen. “Shit, what happened in here?”  
“Hawke's attempt at cooking.” She couldn't help but laugh at Varric's face. “Yeah, don't bother asking. We're going to get a takeaway once the others arrive.”  
“Thank the Maker.”  
“Hah, you can say that again.” She watched as Varric dumped the beer and immediately reached for a can.  
“How are you holding up, then?”  
“Better than I thought I'd be, to be honest.”  
“Good, I'm glad. Do you think you're maybe ready to speak to have a little heart-to-heart with Hawke?”  
He nodded slowly and took a drink of his beer, his eyes flitting around the room. “I think so. As long as she's going to be mature about it.”

Hawke appeared in the doorway, looking only slightly more presentable than before. At least she'd managed to get the egg out of her hair.

“Hawke.” Varric said, nodding his head at her.  
“Varric.” She said, looking equally awkward. So far, so good.  
“Hawke.” Isabela mouthed, trying to egg her on with hand motions.  
“R- right, Varric? I feel like I owe you an explanation.”  
He folded his arms and Hawke did a good job of keeping her eyes on his face. Good girl. “Yes, I think you do.”  
“I'll let you two get to it.” Isabela muttered, leaving the room.

That didn't mean she wasn't going to listen in, though.

“I really just, em... I don't really know how to begin saying how sorry I am. For fucking with you... for fucking you...” She stopped to giggle nervously and cough, “Shit, I'm sorry. This is supposed to be serious.”  
“Well, that's something I didn't expect to hear.”  
“I mean, I don't just want to make excuses or anything, but I really wasn't in a good place when I stopped talking to you. I'd convinced myself that feelings weren't going to get involved, and then when they did... I mean, the last person I'd had feelings for just... just tore my heart to shreds.”  
“Me too, but I'm sure you know that well enough.”

There was a short silence while Hawke scrabbled for the words that had just deserted her. Well, this wasn't going how she'd planned it, was it?

“A-and I _was_ going to come back and see you again, but then Carver left for the army on bad terms and Bethany took his side and moved out without even saying goodbye and my brain made me feel like the scum of the earth and you were...” She let out a slow sigh. “I was so wrapped up in my own emotions that I forgot to think about _you_ and how _you_ felt. I just assumed I was doing the right thing, even though it hurt like hell.”  
“You did it to yourself, which is fine enough, but you did it to me too!”  
“I know, I see that now and I'm so, so sorry.”  
“And what about Hugh?”  
“I... didn't really love him. I _thought_ I did.”  
He scoffed. “You _actually_ thought you did?”  
“I did, but then I realised that I was only with him because he reminded me of you.”

The silence in that room could be cut with a knife. She held her breath and shuffled on her feet, trying to avoid his piercing gaze.

“At least you've realised I guess... You hurt him a lot too, you know.”  
“I know that and it just made me feel even worse. And I felt like the only thing I was good for was letting people take advantage of me.”  
“I see.” The words were forced out as if they were tearing his insides to shreds. “But you didn't feel like that when we were together, right?”  
“No?” She sounded maybe a little less convincing than she'd hoped. “And then there was the road trip and I was still convinced that I didn't deserve you.”  
“Well, at that point you didn't.”  
“Yeah. So I just pushed you away again, without thinking.”  
“No, you _didn't_ think.”  
“And then with Bianca, I just felt so angry after what she did to you, I just...”  
“Thought you had the right to storm in there?”  
“I guess I did.”

Varric sighed that way he did when he really, really wanted to say something, but he still said nothing.

“And when you shouted at me, I realised what I'd done and I hit rock bottom. I didn't speak to anyone for a while. I barely left the house, I even took unpaid time off from work and just wallowed in pure, unadulterated self hatred.”  
“Smoking weed and having copious amounts of sex with strangers, you mean?.”  
“When I did that at least I felt a little less worthless. I just didn't want to live... in the real world, I mean.” She let out a nauseatingly nervous laugh that seemed to shake her to the very core. “And then when I somehow started to crawl out of that hole and try to get back the life I threw away, I realised just how many bridges I'd burned.” She let out a louder laugh that no longer _really_ sounded like a laugh. “I know that's just more excuses but I really am sorry... and I understand if you want me out of your life again.”  
“I don't want you out of my life, Hawke, but I don't know if I can trust you like I did before. Knowing that you're capable of what Bianca did...”  
“I understand.” There was a short sob and Hawke's voice wavered  
“But couldn't you have spoken to me about this? Let me know something was going on? Let me know that it wasn't my fault?”  
“I really wish I did, but I was just so convinced that even sending you a message would be bad for you, it's hard.”  
“I see.” Isabela could hear Varric take a deep breath, “I had so much I wanted to say to you, but now I don't even know what to say.”

He took a moment to collect his thoughts. There was a knock at the door, but she'd be damned if she missed this. _Let yourselves in, guys, s_ he typed to the group chat. They took the advice and let themselves in. Of course, it was Merrill with an array of tasty vegan treats. Nice.

“I _do_ still want to be your friend, Varric.” Hawke mumbled.  
“And I _do_ miss being your friend, but you can't just snap your fingers and get back to where we were before. I can't, or at least now that I know you're not who I thought you were and it's going to take a long time to rebuild trust, if that's even possible.” He let out a strained breath. “But really, Hawke? Did you _really_ have to kick me while I was down?”  
“But i-in my defence, I didn't know you were in love with me.”  
“ _And??_ So you think it's okay to mess with your best friend's mind as long as they're not in love with you?”

She was silent for a long, drawn out moment.

“Shit, you're right. I'm fucking- I'm so sorry.”  
“Well,” He sighed, “That's more than I expected to be honest. But do you _really_ mean it, or are you trying to worm into my good books?”  
“I mean it. I was a shitty person.”  
“But _why_ did you do it? Why did you turn on me and ignore and insult me? Did our years of friendship really mean _nothing_ to you?”  
“I guess I was scared.”  
“Of what?”  
“I... don't know. I didn't want to hurt you, especially with what Bianca put you through and I didn't want to get hurt.”  
“I just don't think you understand how fucking much it hurt for you to run away from me!”  
“I'm sorry, Varric.”  
“You can say that all you want but all _I_ want is for you to understand how much unnecessary hurt you caused. You can say you were a shit, you can say sorry, but if you don't even try to understand how it felt then it's just hollow words and I've had more than enough of them. Trust me.”

Varric was really giving her the kick up the butt she needed. Thank fuck. Oh and here was Fenris and Anders too! It was a shame Aveline still refused to come.

“I mean, you don't even know how hard I tried to bring us back together and how much it hurt that time after time you threw it back in my face! And then you had the audacity - just as I decided to give up on you – to come crashing back and shout at Bianca about something _you_ did too!” He sighed deeply, suddenly aware of how loudly he was shouting, “I would have given you everything, Hawke, and I only realised how much I loved you when you were gone.”  
“Me too.” She mumbled.  
“But _how_ can you love someone but treat them how you treated me? Did you even think for one minute about anyone other than yourself? You _say_ you loved me, but was I really that important that you could just shove me out of your life? If that's what you think love is then I'm glad we didn't end up together.”  
“I just thought it would be better to loose you than for either of us to get hurt.”  
“But you didn't even ask me how I felt? You made the decision without even thinking and I just...” He sighed deeply, “I still don't get why you felt you had to run away. We could have ended things there and then and never spoken about it again if that was what you _really_ wanted.”  
“It was never what I _wanted._ I just... I don't know, thought it was for the better.”

Varric let out a weighted sigh, as if he was shedding the weight of the past eight months.

“That morning you ran away, I was just about to speak to you and tell you I wanted to be with you. I was ready to take that step.”  
“I kind of felt like something was going on.”  
“Would you have even-?” He paused, dragging his hand down his face, “No don't tell me. Just know that I would have given you everything. You already had my heart, whether I wanted you to or not, but everything else of mine I would have given you too.”  
“I wouldn't have deserved it anyway.”  
“Well, you've proven that now, haven't you?”

All his anger seemed to evaporate as he took a deep breath.

“What do we do now?” Hawke mumbled. “I mean, I'd give anything to have us back to how we were.”  
“When? Before the friends with benefits?”  
“Any time before I was a shit, but I know it's unrealistic to hope.”

Maybe she wasn't as ready for this conversation as Isabela had thought. Come on, Hawke!

“If you're trying to say you want to go back to the friends with benefits then no. We can't be intimate again. Ever. Go to the Blooming Rose or Chainz or some seedy app if you need a hook up. Keep me out of it. I don't want to get involved.”  
“Yeah, I get that.” She sighed, despondently. “Do you, eh- do you regret it? Us?”  
“Yes.” He said immediately before pausing. “...and no. If it hadn't happened then I couldn't have known what you were capable of. But then again, I may never have known.”

They must have noticed the voices coming from the other room.

“I think we should go through to the others. I think they must have arrived already.”  
“Sure.” He sighed, reaching for another beer.

The pair emerged from the kitchen, Varric looking... good, actually. He looked a lot better than he had in months. Well, there was no denying it; ranting at Hawke was definitely cathartic.

“Who's ready to order some Antivan!?” Hawke cheered, her eyes red with the beginnings of tears. If anyone else noticed then they didn't say.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


_Just come in._ Hawke had texted her, _The door's unlocked._

She'd forgotten that one of Isabela's favourite pastimes was picking locks, hadn't she? Nevermind.

Melancholic guitar music and humid warmth greeted her the moment she opened the door.

“ _Over and over they call us their friends  
Can't we find something else to pretend?  
Like nobody won and we're safe at the end.”_

“Hawke?” She called out.  
“In the bathroom.” Her voice replied, thick with emotion.

She went into the bathroom and sure enough, there she was in the bathtub, having what was probably the bubbliest bubble bath that was possible in the world. The bubbles seemed to be the only thing censoring Hawke's body at that moment. In one hand she had a tub of ice cream, a spoon in her other and between her legs she was awkwardly balancing a glass of wine.

“What's this?” Isabela asked, rather amused.  
“Self care.” Hawke replied, spooning a massive dollop of ice cream straight from the tub. “I can't afford a therapist.” She laughed, a beat too late. “Not that I deserve it, anyway.” And she put the dollop in her mouth.  
“Therapist? What's going on?”

She shrugged her shoulders, the water swishing in response and poured more wine into her glass, a steeled expression on her face.

“You can speak to me about shit, you know.”  
“Yeah.” She replied plainly, with her mouth still full of ice cream, already clumsily scooping out another chunk. “Well anyway, how've you been?”  
“Same old, same old, really.” Isabela sighed, sitting down and leaning against the wall. “You?”

Of course, she shrugged again, putting yet more ice cream in her mouth, staring at the other end of the tub as if there was something very interesting going on beside her toes.

“Is that a shrug for “I don't know” or “I don't want to say”?”  
“I don't ask _you_ invasive questions about your life.” Hawke retorted awkwardly, her mouth still full.  
“Fine, fine. Forget I ever asked.”

Getting information out of Hawke was like getting a giggle out of Aveline. Rare. Unless you're Varric, of course.

An uncomfortable silence entered the room as Hawke swirled the bubbles with her foot and stared at the water with glassy eyes. Isabela tapped out a rhythm on the floor with her fingernail, trying to ignore the song that was playing. Mostly because it was really fucking depressing. She doubted it was doing anything good for Hawke's mood right now.

“ _That's it, it's split  
It won't recover.  
Just frame the halves and call them brothers.  
Find your fathers and your mothers  
If you remember who they are.”_

Without warning, Hawke put the ice cream and the wine at the side of the tub and sunk further in until only the top of her head was visible over the side of the tub, enshrouded in endless bubbles, her knees popping up at the other end.

“How-” Hawke stuttered, “How's Varric doing?”  
“You don't know?” Isabela could see Hawke shaking the top of her head, “He's fine as far as I know.”  
“Good...” She muttered, before sinking further into the water until her breath turned to bubbles.  
“Why?”

She was silent and barely moved. Okay, so that was pretty unnerving.

“You know what we should do?” Isabela finally said, watching Hawke's head bob up out of the water.  
“What?”  
“Let's go to Chainz.”  
“I really don't think I'm in the mood.” She sighed, fumbling for her wine once more, “Another time, maybe.”  
“Suit yourself.” She sighed, “I missed you on Friday. It was weird hanging with the gang without you.”  
“Yeah well... That's life.”  
“I had to convince Merrill not to make you a 'get well soon' card.” She joked.

The comedy seemed completely lost on Hawke. Instead, she just slid back into the water, the top of her head not even visible. She must have been properly under the water. Isabela resumed tapping away her random tune, tempted to ask Hawke for some of her wine when she next resurfaced. Strange, that same melancholic guitar song seemed to be repeating itself.

“ _In the darkness the film machine's running, so let's leave it on.  
We'll be out in the street before anyone know that we're gone.”_

Half a minute passed and she still hadn't come back up. She couldn't stay under there for ever.

Up to a minute passed and Isabela was getting pretty nervous. What the fuck was Hawke doing? She wasn't _that_ drunk, surely? She was just about to go check on her when she reappeared once more, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?”  
“I'm fine” She sighed, reaching for the ice cream, not even bothering to look towards Isabela. “Don't worry. If I _wanted_ to drown myself then I'd do it when there wouldn't be someone to save me.”

Isabela huffed in agreement as Hawke laughed emptily, the red of her eyes contrasting with the striking blue of her iris. Sure, Hawke had her down moments and she definitely had her fair share of dramatics, but this wasn't just Hawke being Hawke. There was something else going on.

“ _That's it, it's split. It can't recover.  
Just frame the halves and call them a whole.  
And chip at the bricks  
And fill up your pockets with the pieces of the wall that you stole.”_

“Where's Bethany then?”  
“Out.”

Isabela nodded. Okay, so not much of an answer there.

“And Carver?”  
“Army.”  
“Oh.”

Hawke didn't respond. Instead she sunk back into the tub, flashing Isabela a look of disgust, as if to say “Don't fucking bring it up again.”

By the way she spoke of and ridiculed him, she would have thought she was indifferent, maybe even relieved to finally see him finally go, but the grimace on her face suggested there was more between between them than an unconditional rivalry.

“So he's properly gone, then?” Isabela poked, watching Hawke's face twist into some distorted form of grief.

She still refused to answer, instead she just slid further into the tub, as if threatening to go back under. She sent a quick text to Varric. Maybe he'd have some answers.

 _What's going on with Hawke?_ She typed in lightning speed.

“Will you be coming on Friday?” Isabela asked, putting her phone down.  
“No.”  
“Why not?”  
Hawke sighed, through her teeth. “Work.”  
“Right.”  
“Did you just come over here to drag me out to Chainz then?”  
“I wanted to see how you were doing.”  
“Well, I think you can see that I'm surviving quite well.” Hawke spat, her voice wobbling unapologetically, “So if that's all you were here to do then you can leave now.”  
“Are you _sure_ you want me to go? I can stay-”  
“As I said, if you're done here then _go_.”

Isabela nodded slowly and rose to her feet. Hawke didn't even watch her go. Instead, she stared blankly at the alcohol in front of her, as if it held the comfort she so dearly needed.

“I'll hopefully see you about.” She sighed and left the flat.

Yep, just like getting a giggle out of Aveline. Of course, she already had a reply from Varric.

_No clue. Why?  
Checked in on her and she was really defensive. And kinda pissed.  
Just leave her. I'm sure she'll come back to us when she's ready._

“I hope so.” She muttered to herself.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“Oh, Isabela!” Merrill cried. “I wasn't expecting you! Do come in, though!”  
“How are you?”  
“Oh, same old really! Well, except that Hawke is back. I'm so happy she still wants to be my friend!”  
“I could see if she's free to come over if you want.” Spoiler alert; she was always free, due to her lack of social life.  
“Could you? That would be amazing!”

Millie came skidding over with a squeaky hot dog in her mouth and demanded a cuddle.

“Hello, Millie!” Isabela giggled. “Who's a good girl? Yes, _you_ are!”

Millie lead them to the sofa and the two took a seat, moving an array of dog toys to get a space to park their butts. Millie was lifted up and wasted no time getting as many head scratches as possible before curling up on Isabela's lap with a humf.

“As always, make yourself at home! I think Millie is a little tired from her walk so she won't be very hospitable right now.”  
“Don't you worry, Kitten.”  
“And I'm sorry my house is always such a mess when you come over. It's clean sometimes, I swear!”  
“You always say that and it's always spotless.” How nice it was to visit somewhere that wasn't a tip.

She picked up her phone and clicked on the picture of Hawke's face. Aah, how long ago was that? Her birthday maybe?

“Hi?”  
“Hawke!”  
“Yeah?” She mumbled.  
“Get your ass over to Merrill's!”  
“Oh. Is everything okay?”  
“Yeah, Merrill misses you.”  
“Right. Um, sure. Let me just... I'll be there in maybe... fifteen minutes? Do you want me to bring anything?”  
“Bring snacks and drinks if you want them, I guess.”  
“Sure. I'll see you then, I guess.”

Merrill was practically bouncing with excitement, bless.

“I'm so excited, it'll be just like old times! And we have so much to catch up on!”

Merrill began scrabbling around, trying to tidy the place before Hawke could get there. Compared to Hawke's it was already a shrine of cleanliness, but oh well.

Her cupboards were emptied of snacks and drinks, it seemed.

“Hawke's probably bringing stuff too.”  
“I know, I just want to make sure it's all perfect!”  
“ _You're_ perfect.”  
She squealed and put a hand to her cheesing face. “You always flatter me, Isabela!”  
“I'm just telling the truth, Kitten.”

She giggled again and went to get more snacks, just as there was a knock at the door.

“Do you want me to get that?”  
“No, no. No need to wake up Millie!”

Of course, it was Hawke at the door with a backpack full of snacks and alcohol. As if they needed any more.

“Hawke!” She could hear Merrill cry, enveloping her in a crushing hug.  
“Hi Merrill.” She mumbled into Merrill's shoulder.

Millie yapped and demanded to be put down, sliding over the laminate floor to investigate the new guest.

“You've not met Millie, have you?”  
“I've seen lots of pictures of her but I've never met her, no.”

The pitter-patter of tiny feet stopped Hawke in her tracks and Millie came running, doing her best to jump up on the new guest.

“Hello! You must be Millie! It's lovely to meet you!”

They settled in the living room and Hawke set about emptying her bag. So many unhealthy snacks. Fuck yeah!

“I've got some weed too. It's not the best stuff but-” She shrugged. “eh, it'll do.”  
“Oh, that reminds me, I've started growing a new strain.” Merrill practically skipped into her spare room and back out with a baggy. “I can never remember the name...” Hawke's eyes lit up. “Anyone want to try some? I wanted to save it for a special occasion.”  
“I'll try some.” Of course she would.  
“Same.”

Isabela decided she should be the one to roll the joints. She _was_ the best at it, after all. Merrill looked for something to watch on the TV and Hawke got everyone drinks from the collection she'd brought.

The joint was passed around and fuck, it was strong. On second thought, maybe she should have put more tobacco in. Oh well.

“Anyone else feeling this?” Hawke smirked.  
Isabela nodded, her eyes practically rolled into the back of her head as the first hit washed over her, absorbed by the sofa. “Fuck yeah.”  
Merrill nodded, a smile over her face as she cuddled into Millie.

Merrill had picked something pretty uninteresting to watch. A nature documentary. Well, uninteresting to anyone _not_ high. This one was a special about family bonds in the wild. That was nice and all, but concentrating on those nugs little weird feet hand things were much more interesting.

Merrill's head popped up from underneath her crocheted blanket. “I was speaking to Bethany the other day-” Hawke squared her shoulders and her jaw twitched, but Merrill was completely oblivious. “and she was asking after you, Hawke.”  
“How's she doing?”  
“She's good, actually. She was saying Carver was doing well.”  
“Good. Good.”  
“He says hi, by the way.”  
“Right.”  
“Are you okay about... what happened with them?”  
“I'm okay with it.” She took a draw.  
“Hawke,” Isabela sighed, nudging her with her toe, “what did I say about closing yourself off?”  
“I _am_ okay with it, though.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“I mean, he's his own person. It's not my job to tell him what he can and can't do.” She went to take a draw, but paused before it reached her lips. “And it was pretty shitty of mother to expect me to stop him from doing what he wants with his life.”  
“Wow.” Isabela said, half aware she'd said it.  
“What?”  
“You've grown.”  
Her lip twitched into a smile and she put a hand to her face. “Naah.”  
“Yeah you have.” She leaned into her. “I'm proud of you.”  
“Shut up.” She scoffed, but she was so obviously chuffed.  
“No!”  
“Shut up!” She giggled. “No, really.”  
“I'm proud of you.”

Hawke threw a packet of nuts at her face and for her intoxicated brain it felt like the whole world was ending. Fuck's sake, give her a heart attack, why don't you?

“In fact, can I get that back? I'm kinda hungry.”  
“Kinda?”  
“Okay, yeah, I'm starving.”

Merrill looked up from her phone, a little shaken.

“Guys?”  
“Yeah? What is it, Kitten?”  
“The only time the word 'wrong' isn't spelled wrong is when it's spelled wrong.”  
“Huh?” Hawke mumbled with a mouth full of nuts.  
“What the fuck?”  
Hawke groaned and rubbed her face. “Let's not get into these thoughts because my brain _will_ probably explode.”  
What was it she'd read the other day? “When you brush your teeth, isn't that you cleaning your skeleton?” Isabela smirked.  
“Guys, really. Don't.” Hawke moaned.  
“You'll never know when the last time you hear your favourite song will be.” Merrill pointed out.  
Isabela let out a smirk. “I wonder who the world champion of rock-paper-scissors is... Do they even know they're the world champion?”  
“Why are you doing this to me?” Hawke rubbed her face with her hands. “I don't have the brain power for this. I thought I was your friend!”  
“Because your reaction is hilarious.” Isabela giggled.  
“Fuck you guys.” She grumbled and reached for a cookie. “Does anyone want a drink? I'm going to get up in a second.”  
“Yes please! Could you bring through some of the wine from the fridge?”  
“Wine, sure! Isabela?”  
“Yeah, same for me.” She nodded, getting her phone out her pocket.

A text from Zev? Oh it was just about his shifts-

Wait what? It was half past one? In the morning? Hawke did come over kind of late, but still.

“It's half one, guys.”  
Hawke's face fell. “Oh man. I guess I should probably go soon.”  
“No!” Merrill cried. “I mean, you could stay over if you want! I could get the sofa-bed out.”  
A smile wormed its way onto Hawke's face. “Could I?”  
“Yes, please do! Isabela, are you staying too?”  
“Sure!”  
“Yay! It'll be just like old times! Does anyone want some pyjamas?”  
“Yeah, thanks.”  
“Me too.”  
“Would you mind taking Millie for a moment? She'll just sleep on you.”  
Hawke nodded awkwardly. “Oh- eh, sure!”

Merrill placed a cosy Millie on Hawke's lap and skipped off to get some pyjamas. Hawke's face was pretty hilarious, half between fear and adoration of the tiny dog. And yet she wanted a mabari?

“Right, I have two pairs that you can have.” She held them aloft. “I have one sausage dog pair and one covered in daisies. I don't know if either of you have a preference.”  
“I'll take the sausage dog one.” Hawke smiled. Of _course_ she wouldn't take the daisy ones. “I guess it's the closest I can get to a mabari.”  
“Aah, yes.” Isabela snorted. “Millie is _so_ much like a mabari.”

At the sound of her name, Millie's ears pricked up and she humfed, snuggling even further into Hawke's lap. Aah, how cute.

Pyjamas were put on and outside clothes discarded. The sofa-bed was made up and everyone bundled onto it. Aah, yes. Now _this_ was comfort.

Another joint was lit and passed around. That wine was pretty nice, though. Trust Merrill to know the tastiest ones.

“Hey,” Isabela nudged Hawke. “Did you see that advert for a Dragon Festival?”  
Hawke's head sprung up. “A what!?”  
“Yeah, there's going to be a dragon festival in Nevarra.”  
“Oh man!” Hawke took to her mobile, frantically searching for more information, her face lighting up more and more. “Maybe I could save up to go.”

Her smile widened more and more, clutching her phone, her hands practically vibrating with excitement.

“Oh, shit! They have a massive fire breathing dragon moving statue thing! Holy fuck, I need to go to this! That's it; I'm booking tickets!”

Isabela stretched out further on the sofa and Merrill snuggled into her side, entwining her fingers with her own. What a sweetie.

“I've got another weird thought.” She waited for Hawke's reaction, but she just rolled her eyes. “Procrastinating is basically just doing lots of side quests instead of doing the main story fest.”  
“Fest?”  
“I meant quest.”  
“Fest!” Merrill giggled. “A story fest!”

She giggled hysterically until the giggles turned to full out belly laughter. The others couldn't help but join in.

“Imagine that! A story fest!”

The laughter eventually muffled and faded.

Oh now the show was showing awkward animal sex scenes. Lovely.

“You okay, Merrill?” Isabela asked, curious as to what she was doing.  
“Oh yeah, totally.” She giggled, now face down on the sofa-bed, an almost empty wine bottle in hand. Thank goodness it had been shared between them.  
“Do you think it's maybe time for bed?”  
“Yeah, maybe.”  
“Up you get then.” She hauled Merrill up and put her arm over her shoulder.

Believe it or not, she wasn't that far gone, she was just tired.

“I love you guys.” She smiled, patting Isabela on the head as she helped her into bed.  
“I love you too, Merrill. Sleep tight.”  
“You too.”

When she came back to the living room, Hawke was back to her usual defensive pose. Knees up, absorbed into her phone. Aah, she must have sussed another talk was coming.

“You know,” Isabela sighed, turning off the TV. “I've not seen Merrill so happy in ages.”  
“I honestly didn't realise everyone else would be so affected.”  
“It wasn't just Varric you ghosted.”  
“I know that now.”

Hawke reached for one of the blunts from her home supply. Aah, yes. Just have more weed. That solves everything, doesn't it?

“You know, I still don't get why you ran away.”  
She huffed out her first puff. “To be honest, I don't expect you to.”  
“You didn't know he was in love with you, did you?”  
“I don't know. I think part of me knew... I think I always knew but I didn't want to, you know... I didn't want to believe it. I mean, I was fine having feelings for him as long as I could push them down and pretend he could never feel the same. But then it got harder and harder and I... I just... I couldn't do it.”  
“You couldn't even say to him, 'Oh hey, by the way, could we stop bonking?' Because he would have, no questions asked.”  
“I honestly don't think I could have.”

Of course she was still being awkward. Why would she expect any different?

“I don't know, I just don't get it. It just seems so selfish to me.”  
“Yep, that's me. Selfish and self centred.” Her face turned to a scowl and her voice became deeper, “You always were a nasty piece of work. I don't know why I trusted you.”

That was probably a quote from Siv. Or Carver. Or maybe even her Mother. Shit, it was hard keeping track on all the people Hawke had disappointed.

“And then once I realised I couldn't ignore my feelings any more, I ran. I meant to come back, I really did, but then Carver left on a sour note and Bethany moved out and I just felt so alone.”  
“You could have spoken to me, you know! Or Aveline or Merrill. Even Fenris has a good listening ear.”  
“I just...” She sighed, swallowing hard against the sobs, “I thought I was the scum of the earth, that I was only good for being used for sex...” She clenched her teeth, the words nothing but a hiss. “and then I _fucking_ proved myself right...”  
“Oh, Sweetie! You're my best friend, Hawke. If you were only good for sex then I'm sure we would have slept together ages ago.”

She laughed lightly until her shoulders stilled and her face hid behind her knees. Torn. That was one way to describe how Isabela felt.

“You said you meant to come back.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Would that be just as friends or would you have kept fucking?”  
“I didn't even think that far ahead. I'd like to think that I could stop fucking him, but we all know I have terrible impulse control...” She brought her knees to her chest and hid her face between them. “I probably would have fallen back into bed with him pretty quickly, whether or not I meant to.”

“The thing with Varric was, when I was with him, I felt like I was worth something. And I guess I tried to find that feeling again by going around and fucking strangers.”  
“Did it work?”

She shook her head, eyes glazed and firmly set in front of her.

“That's what love does to you.” Isabela mumbled, as if she'd know.

A pained look scorched into her face, she put drew the covers of the sofa bed and let them engulf her.

“Can we save the rest of this heart-to-heart for another time? I think I should go to sleep soon.”  
“Sure.”

Hawke got up and turned off the lamp in the corner, leaving only the lights of their phones casting ominous shadows around the room.

“Goodnight.” Isabela mumbled.  
“Night.”

  
  


  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“You know, Varric, the staff at the Hanged Man have been asking after you.”

He shrugged, his eyes blank, staring at the desk in front of him. There was at least a week's unfinished work scattered across the surface and only a line or two had even been attempted. A hand dragged it's way down his face, slowly, as if it was laced with broken glass.

“I've just not been up for it lately.” He eventually mumbled, so softly that the words might break in the air.  
“Not since Hawke?”

He turned his face to hers', his eyes boring into her as tears threatened to leak, but yet he said nothing. Poor guy.

“It's shit losing your best friend.” Isabela sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Still nothing, his gaze lowering to his clasped hands.

“Come on,” She sighed. “Let's go to the Hanged Man, have a few drinks, play some Wicked Grace, maybe some darts too and see how you feel.”  
“I don't know.”  
“I won't leave you alone until you walk out this house and you may as well do something you enjoy.”  
“Fine.” He grumbled, rising to his feet and reaching for his jacket.  
“Oh and change your shirt. Black doesn't suit you.”

He shot her a look, but went into the bedroom, appearing not long after in blue. Wait, he _owned_ a blue t-shirt? Not much better but hey, at least it was some colour.

  
  


Thankfully, The Hanged Man wasn't very busy so they could bag a booth at the back of the bar, away from the other people.

“Go on then.” Isabela nudged him. “Get your cards out and shuffled and I'll go order us some drinks.”

He sighed heavily and reached into his pocket. She returned a few moments later with a beer in each hand and slid one over to Varric. He nodded in thanks and she picked up her hand. A good hand, but this wasn't a serious game.

“So...” Isabela sighed, placing down a card and drawing two. “...what actually happened between you and Hawke?”

He was silent, as if he didn't know the answer to that. So she gave him a moment. The air was heavy between them, but eventually, he dragged a hand down his face and sighed.

“We were sleeping together-”  
“I knew it!” She yapped before she could stop herself. She may as well have punched him. “Sorry. Go on.”  
“We were sleeping together and... I guess I fell in love with her.” He quickly swiped at his eyes and swallowed deeply. “Andraste's ass.”  
“So you started sleeping together and _then_ you fell in love with her?”

He nodded. There was no point bringing up denial right now.

“When did it start?”  
“Her birthday.”  
“Her birthday? Really, that long?” The questions kept coming before she could stop herself.

He nodded. So her best friends had been sleeping with each other for months and she hadn't even realised? Isabela, you need to up your sleuthing game, girl!

“Does she know you fell in love with her?”  
“I don't know. I haven't told her. She ran away-” He took a deep breath and a swig of his beer. “I thought she maybe felt the same, or at least cared enough about me enough to not to let my feelings change anything. I was totally willing to stop the friends with benefits at any time if she wanted to. I thought she knew that...”

He took another swig, his eyes steeled on the table in front of him.

“So there I was, making breakfast for her, about to tell her how I felt, when she just took the food and left. Said she had work and ran off. I could see her from the window, she was _running._ At first I believed her, I thought she was maybe telling the truth about having to work, but she didn't phone during her break, she didn't message, she wouldn't even pick up her phone or answer the door.”  
“When did that happen?”  
“Bloomingtide. It was the 17th.” Not that he was counting the days or anything.  
“Right.” Interesting.  
“And you know what the worst thing was?”  
“What?”  
“ _She_ was the one that told me Bianca was wrong to ghost me, but she's just done the same damned thing!”  
“It's not _you,_ Varric.”  
“I've heard that enough, Isabela. I just want to speak to her. Find out _why._ ”  
“If you want, I could tell you next time I know she's out. Maybe we could corner her and get you some answers.”  
“If you think that'll work.”  
“It's the best shot we have. I guess I could speak to her myself, but I'm sure you'd rather hear it from her.”  
“Yeah.”

Isabela watched him as he took another drink. He just looked... broken down. It's not that she'd ever doubted that romantic love existed, she just had never felt it for herself. She couldn't even imagine how Varric felt right now.

“Well, I'd say I wouldn't expect that of her, but she doesn't exactly have the best track record.”  
“What do you mean?”  
Aah, shit. “She didn't tell you about Siv, did she?” Of course she didn't. Why would she?  
He furrowed his brows. “Was he that guy who moved to Denerim?”  
“No, that was Fred.”  
“Who's Siv then?”  
“Ah, I really don't think that's my story to tell.” Figures she wouldn't tell him though.

The next few turns were taken in silence. Varric wasn't even concentrating, putting down random cards and picking back up cards he'd already discarded. It fucking broke Isabela's heart.

“But I don't get it,” He grumbled, hiding his eyes with his hand. “I don't think I treated her badly.”  
“I honestly don't think you could, even if you tried.”  
“I gave her everything I had.” His hand shook and his lips pursed together so tightly they might snap. “Why?” He hissed. “What did I do wrong?”  
“I don't know, Varric. I really don't know.”

Isabela slid a hand to Varric's and grasped it tightly. He swiped at his eyes again and turned his head away. Next time she saw Hawke, she'd get a swift kick up the ass.

“Varric, you are the best person I know and I know you would never do anything to deserve being treated like that.”  
“I must have.”  
“No, you haven't.” She gave his hand a squeeze, but he just shook his head and moved his hand away, balling it into a fist..  
“Thanks for the drink and the game, but I think I need to go home.”  
“You sure I can't tempt you to stay?”  
“No thanks, I should be getting back.” He mumbled, gathering his cards.  
“Even if I get some nachos?”

He didn't respond, just turned and left, shaking his head and lifting his hand to his face. Poor, poor bastard.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


  
  


Hawke was only twenty minutes late, but it meant she couldn't get in for free. Still, she made it. The wonders of the modern world never cease. Her choice of clothing was rather _interesting_ ; a worn studded leather jacket (with most of the studs fallen off), stained skinny jeans and her usual black leather boots. Not to mention the t-shirt citing the slogan _'I didn't text you, tequila did!'_ What was she; a walking tacky tourist shop?

“Nice top.” Isabela smirked.  
“Hah, thanks. Can you believe I couldn't find a mabari t-shirt in town?”  
“This isn't Fereldan, you know.”  
“A girl can dream, can't she?”

Isabela rolled her eyes, linked arms with Hawke and waltzed straight past Jason on the door and into the club. That distinctive Chainz smell wafted over the moment she entered. Aah, yes. _That's_ how she knew she was home. The bar was packed, but she managed to squeeze her way into a spot. It was all about the technique.

“Shots?” Isabela suggested.  
“Fuck, no! I can't keep shots down any more. No idea what happened.”  
“Ten shots of vodka in a row, maybe?”

Clyde walked over before she'd even waved over a bartender. Fuck yes, he always gave her money off!

“What'll it be, Bella?”  
“Two blue cocktail jugs, please.”  
“Coming right up.”

The music was starting to get good, not that filler stuff they usually had on before midnight. This was usually a place to end the night, somewhere you wouldn't mind or notice the grime or smell when you're already plastered. But to Isabela, that was just part of the charm.

“See that black haired one with the ugly nose?” A voice came from beside them. Hawke's eyes turned into slits. “Easiest hook up in Kirkwall.”

Isabela drew a breath through her teeth. Oh fuck no, no-one messes with Hawke under Isabela's watch.

“Says who?” Hawke spat, arms crossed, and teeth bared before Isabela could get a word in.  
“Aaron.”  
“Aaron with the eh, ugly face?” Hawke laughed, reaching for her drink. “He couldn't even get it up, so no wonder I had to look elsewhere. It's bloody impossible to find someone who can make a woman cum. Seriously, what's with the guys here in Kirkwall?”  
“I have to agree with you, Hawke.” Isabela nudged Hawke and lead her to the dance floor, away from the entitled shits.

How was _Varric_ in bed, though? He was Kirkwall born and raised. Although, that would have to be another night's topic of conversation.

“You okay, Hawke?”

Her face was steeled ahead of her, her mouth around the straw of her drink. Okay, so that was a no.

“Don't let them get to you, okay? You're not even the easiest shag in Kirkwall.”  
“I am- I was.”  
“And even if you were, there's nothing wrong with that.”  
“Let's just dance.” Hawke grumbled and painted on another fake smile.

They sashayed over to the dance floor with loose hips and began dancing to the music under the twirling rainbow lights. Hawke seemed a little less enthusiastic about the music choice, her eyes darting from person to person, half a strained smile plastered to her face as she awkwardly swayed her hips.

“Want me to request something for you? Maryden's DJ-ing tonight.”  
“No thanks.”

Isabela kept dancing as more and more people made their way to the dance floor. It must have been close to the infamous 1am crush. Hawke didn't seem to cheer up much, not really dancing, just nodding her head in time with the music, even with half of her jug gone.

“Come on, lets go for a smoke.” She sighed, dragging Hawke to the nearest fire escape.

Of course, the crowds were even thicker near the bar so it took some ramming people out the way to get past. The cool air was a bit of a shock to the system, but it was a nice change from the grog of the club. Hawke wasted no time in getting a joint lit up.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Isabela asked.

Hawke stood, staring intently into smoke rising from the the joint. It was only when she looked closely that Isabela could see the silent tears pouring down her cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart. What is it?”

It was as if the floodgates suddenly burst and out poured Hawke with it, raw and vulnerable.

“I had my...” She stopped to quieten the sobs, “...my first therapy session today.”  
“How did it go?”  
“Hard. Fucking impossible. I had to dig up so much shit from the past. About Dad, about mum, the twins, Siv,” She paused, “and Varric too.”  
“Sounds rough.”  
“I just want to drink my sorrows away, but my homework was to try to cut down alcohol. She thinks I might be dependent on it.”  
“If anything, it would be weed you're dependent on.”  
She scoffed, visibly fighting against rolling her eyes. “Yeah, probably.”  
“I'm glad you went, though.”  
Hawke let out a strained breath, smoke billowing out of her nose.“I don't know it's helping. It's a lot of money just to talk to a stranger.”  
“Give it time. There's no point in giving up now.”  
“Who said I'm giving up?” She took a long chug from her jug, no longer bothered with a straw. “I made a promise to Aveline. Break a promise to her and she'll probably break your legs.”  
“Attagirl!” Isabela downed the remains of her jug and placed it on the floor. Jason's problem now.

A familiar song echoed through he door. What was it? Oh wait, that was one of her favourites! Hawke cleared her throat and the song was forgotten. It didn't matter though, this was more important.

“You know...” Hawke mumbled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and smudging her makeup to shit. “the therapist, she said I might have a fear of love. Or being loved. Or being in love.. or something like that.”  
“What do you think?”  
She turned to look Isabela in the eye, her face so clearly laced with pain. “I don't know. Not after...”

Siv. She was so obviously thinking about that slimy little shit. She stifled the urge to punch something, clenching and unclenching her fingers instead. She deserved it after how she treated Hawke.

“Maybe there _is_ truth to that though. When I thought about having feelings for Varric...” She crossed her arms and looked away. “I just _knew_ it wasn't going to end well.”  
“You were afraid of being in love with him.”  
“I don't know, I-I just didn't want to get hurt, I didn't want _him_ to get hurt. I felt like I was in a burning building and I had to choose between jumping out the window or staying inside and getting burnt alive. So I jumped, I was a coward and ran away and pretended I hadn't been playing with matches.”

She let out a hollow chuckle, throwing her head back as the harsh sound echoed off the walls of the alleyway.

“Fuck, what am I; a poet?” She scraped a hand through her hair as if it was her only hold on life.  
“ _Please_ never describe it like that in front of him. I think that would ruin him.”

Because it would have. It _really_ would.

“Yeah. As if I haven't already done enough. To him, to you, to Merrill and Aveline and Anders and Fenris and-” She swallowed, gritting her teeth.  
“Siv was a one-off and-”  
“But how do I know, though? What if I'm impossible to love because all I'll ever do is hurt people? I hurt Siv, I hurt Varric, I hurt Hugh, I hurt you...” Hawke stopped to take a breath, the silence so unnatural that it was almost painful. “And I can tell you're holding back on me. You want to rip the shit out of me, don't you?”  
“Hawke, no! I wouldn't do that to you. Or at least, not now.”  
“No, do it now. I'm already drunk and crying anyway, there's no point in holding it in.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah.”  
“If you insist.”

She tried to sigh out as much tension as possible. No need to be unnecessarily mean. And then a thought popped into her head.

“What was with that weird message you sent after the road trip?” What _was_ it again? That fucking message made cheering up Varric so much more fucking difficult. “I want due? What does that even _mean?_ ”  
She laughed so forcefully, as if it was being ripped from her body. “I meant to type ' _I don't want to die'_.”  
Oh, well, it's not like Isabela wanted to **breathe** or anything. “But why? Why would you type that?”  
“I tried to kill myself.” She tried to laugh again, but it was nothing but a harsh sound. “And I failed. Obviously.”  
“But _why_? Why did you do it?”  
“I guess I felt like shit. I really didn't want to go on. I didn't want to own up to what I'd done. I know, it sounds so stupid, doesn't it?”  
“Couldn't you have spoken to me? It hurts to know you went through that.” She took Hawke's face in both hands and stared deep into her leaking, aqua eyes. “Please, _please_ don't hesitate to phone me. Day or night and I'll help you the best I can. I just don't want to think about if I lost you...” She pursed her lips in a futile attempt to stop her tears from ruining her makeup. “You are _so_ beautiful, Hawke. You are worth _so_ much to me, to Varric, to Aveline and Merrill and Anders and Fenris and Bethany and even Carver!”

Hawke's eyes twitched at the sound of her Brother's name and disbelief flittered over her face, shaking herself free from Isabela's grip.

“No, really.” She insisted, “He does!”  
“I guess he cares about me _so_ much that he didn't even visit me during his leave.”  
“Shit like that takes time, Hawke.”  
“Yeah. I know. I know.”

She took a deep, shaky breath and lit another joint. She watched the glow of the embers as she took a draw and leaned back against the wall.

“I know.” She mumbled again, letting the smoke billow out.

Isabela swallowed hard and looked at the smoke disappearing into the air.

“You okay, Iz?”

She swallowed again, but it was pointless. Tears poured down her face.

“Oh, Isabela, don't cry!” Hawke whimpered. “You'll make me cry too.”  
“I just thought about if I'd lost you, if I'd heard that you'd killed yourself. I'd never be able to forgive myself.” Shit, now her nose was running too and she had nothing to wipe it on.  
“It's kind of funny though, I tried to take these pills that Bethany had left behind. They had no label or anything so I basically emptied the bottle.”  
“Oh, _Hawke_.” She whimpered.  
“Turns out they were vitamins.” Her futile attempt at laughter faded after a few seconds.  
“You-” The rest of her words were pushed back by the unrelenting sobs tearing their way out of her.

The two stood there, dissolving into tears, hugging as if they'd never see each other again.

“I'm sorry!” Hawke howled, finally able to see how un-funny it was to die.

Sobs tore every ounce of sadness free from the deepest parts of Isabela and into the dark night for everyone to see. Losing Hawke wouldn't even-

No. No, that was to horrible to even think about.

“And it also hurt to see Varric so sad. He didn't even want to go to the Hanged Man. I basically had to drag him out and steal the Wicked Grace cards from his pocket to get him to play.”  
Her voice wasn't much more than a whisper. “Fuck, really?”

Fresh tears threatened to leak as she remembered how _fucking_ heartbroken he'd been that day.

“I'm such a shit. It's good we didn't end up together because I'm literally trash.”  
“Hawke...”  
“You're not disagreeing though.” She almost laughed.  
“But what made you run away? You didn't even know he was going to talk about it.”  
“I don't know, I just-” She paused a second, realisation dawning on her face. “He kind of broke an unspoken rule we had. Or at least, I thought we had.”  
“Which is?”  
“He pointed out the fact I stayed over.”  
Isabela paused. “Is that it?”  
“I don't know. When he said it, it was kind of like that make believe was gone, you know?”

Isabela nodded, but said nothing.

“I mean, I think I just-” She paused to take a draw, her brows knitted together. “I was so obsessed with not letting him think it meant anything, or letting myself think that. So if I passed out in his bed or on his sofa then I'd always try to leave before he woke up. Then there couldn't be any questions, no awkwardness or anything like that. But then the night before was so...” She turned her head away and stiffled a sob. “Sorry.”  
“It's fine, sweetie. Go on.”

She placed a hand on her shoulder and she just crumbled.

“It was so fucking lovely! He made a pie, we watched a film and we...” Her hand balled into her hair, threatening to tear it free from her scalp. “We sort of cuddled and I just felt. I don't know, loved? And it was scary, really fucking scary because I wasn't ready for that and I didn't even know how to put it into words. And I certainly didn't want to bring up Siv.”  
“Do you think if you and Siv hadn't been together that you may have ended up with Varric?”  
Sobs shook her whole body, the words coming out shaky and small. “I don't want to think about it. Being with Siv has fucked up enough of my life, I don't want to give her any more power over me. I just want to let her go. Let all of the anger for her go so I don't have to hate myself for what I did.”

She tried her best to take deep breaths and calm herself down, but it didn't seem to be working.

“And how do I even _begin_ to make things right with Varric?” She wailed.  
“Do something selfless?”  
“Like what?”  
“I don't know. He sacrificed a lot for you and you put him through a lot. Do something that puts _him_ first.”  
“Maybe I'll know it when I see it.”

“Isabela!” The pair jumped at the unfamiliar voice. “How many times do I have to tell you _not_ to use the fire escapes to smoke!” He paused when he saw her face. “Shit, you okay?”  
She swallowed hard and nodded. “I'm fine, Jason.”

She linked arms with Hawke and attempted to wipe away the worst of the damage caused by the tears.

“Let's head home, shall we?”  
“Yeah.” Hawke mumbled.

No point in even going back inside with a face smeared with tears and snot. She patted Jason on the shoulder as she went and walked down the alleyway towards the welcoming light.

“Takeaway?” She suggested “My treat.”

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


The world didn't exactly seem real when Isabela woke up that afternoon. It took her a moment to realise that the hazy dreams lingering in the back of her mind where just that. Dreams. Shame, having a pirate ship would have been pretty rad. Judging by the headache and imminent dizziness, it must have been some party. Oh yeah, it was Aveline's wedding last night, wasn't it?

Something elbowed her in the shoulder. Did she sleep with someone last night? Oh shit, she hooked up at Aveline's wedding!?

But then the bedfellow shuffled and Isabela could see that it was, in fact, Hawke. Maker, Isabela didn't even want to know how shit Hawke felt right now, especially when she must have cried out every ounce of moisture from her body.

“Hawke?”

She grunted in response, but ultimately ignored her.

“Hawke!” She cried, more persistently this time.  
“Fucking hell.” She moaned into the pillow, pulling the covers up further over her head. “Why the fuck did I drink so much last night?”  
“I wonder why...” She drawled, rolling her eyes.

How many bottles of wine had Hawke bought them last night? She almost felt sorry for her having to check her bank account. Rookie mistake really, not taking a hip flask. Or four.

“What do you remember of last night?” Isabela poked.  
“Not... much.” She mumbled, a flash of worry in her eyes. “We didn't sleep together, did we?”

Isabela rolled her eyes and shook her head. She'd have to be a hell of a lot more drunk to let that happen.

“Do you remember getting here?” Hawke shrugged, a smirk on her lips. “You were sick out of the window of the taxi.”  
“Fuck.” She giggled.  
“Do you remember leaving the wedding?”  
“I remember dancing... I think.”  
“Do you remember sitting outside?”  
“No?”  
“You spilled your guts to me.”  
“I'm not surprised I was sick to be honest.”  
“Well, you spilled your guts that way too, but you told me about how you were feeling.”  
“Let me guess... drunk?”  
“Something about a certain someone.”  
“That's awfully vague. It sounds like you're trying to get info out of me.” She sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, “Now if you excuse me, I have more guts to spill.” And with that she hobbled out the door, the sound of heavy heaving soon following, leaving Isabela to pray that she managed to make it to the toilet.

She soon returned and flung herself back onto the bed with an ungodly groan.

“Did that help?”  
“Uuugh...” She groaned again, muffled by the pillow.  
“You said stuff last night about Varric, you know.”  
Her head snapped up, showing her unmistakably green and startled face. “You didn't let me speak to him last night, did you?”  
“No, but you told me _why_ you didn't want to speak to him.”

She froze for a split second, mid breath. To be honest, Isabela wouldn't have seen it if she hadn't looked for it. Being hungover didn't exactly help.

She closed her eyes and fell back onto the pillow. “Don't even tell me what I said.”  
“But you-”  
“You know how overdramatic I get when I drink wine.”  
“Hawke, you said you loved him.”

She snorted and coughed, as if something went down the wrong pipe.

“Again, as I said, I was drinking _wine._ And also, how many times have I told you I've loved you when I was drunk?”  
“Fair point.”

But that couldn't be it. She _knew_ Hawke and Hawke wouldn't cry for no reason. She'd only cried in front of Isabela a handful of times and sure, each time she had been absolutely plastered, but each time had been for hurt that Isabela couldn't even imagine to succumb to. Losing her father, having a family that turns against you whatever you do, having an emotionally manipulative ex... But this time? All those tears couldn't have been for nothing. That just wasn't Hawke.

She watched Hawke sink back into the bed, her eyes distant and her face tight. It just made far too much sense to have been hyperbole.

“I should really get going.” Hawke suddenly sighed, hauling herself upright  
“Can't I tempt you to stay?”

She looked for a moment as if she'd made a completely ridiculous request, but she shook her head.

“Naah, I need to get back.” She mumbled, stretching and cracking her neck.  
“We could order takeaway.”  
“I need to be on my own. I mean, do you know how badly you kick in your sleep?”

Hawke shoved on her bridesmaid's dress from last night and rummaged in her pockets. For once, Isabela couldn't help being thankful that Aveline was a woman of practicality.

“If I've forgotten anything I'll come back for it.”  
“Hawke.”  
“Huh?” She kept her back to her, pretending to look out the window.  
“Are you okay?”  
She blew a raspberry. “Do you _really_ need to ask that?”  
“What do you mean by that?  
“Never mind.” She shrugged and picked up her jacket and threw it over her shoulders before any more questions could be asked. Ugh, such a typical Hawke move. “See you.”  
“See you later.”

The door closed with a slam.

  
  


\- - - - - - - -

  
  


“What?” Hawke asked from behind her drink.  
“What?” Varric retorted, his eyes flickering back to Hawke.

Hawke tilted her head and pointed her eyes towards the woman at the other end of the room. And who could blame her for catching his attention? She was a looker.

The thing was though, for someone so muscular, she looked as if she was being absorbed by her surroundings. Hunched over, eyes wide, absorbed in her book, taking occasional drinks without her eyes even leaving the page. Must have been a good book.

Varric furrowed his eyebrows and took a drink, but Hawke wasn't stupid. Anymore. Or at least she was only stupid with a lot more alcohol in her system.

“I'm going to go and get another drink.”  
“You already have one, Hawke.” Varric noted.  
“Aah yes, nothing gets past you.” She took her drink in hand and stood up, heading towards the bar but then turning away at the last moment and instead, walking up to the woman.

“Hi there.” Hawke smiled, trying her best to look approachable. It was kind of laughable.  
“Oh, me?!” She snapped her book shut on her finger and tried to hide it in her bag.  
“Was that Swords and Shields? That's a favourite of mine.”  
Her face burned aflame. “Tha- that is...” She exhaled loudly and took it out of her bag. Upon second look, it was clear that this was a well looked after, but well loved book. “This book is a first edition.” She said, unable to hide the proud smile on her face.  
“Nice!” She dragged over a spare seat and plonked herself on it, straddling it backwards, of course. “So you're a fan of Varric Tethras then?”  
“He certainly...” her eyes flickered towards the book, “... has a way with words.”  
“That he does.” Hawke nodded. “I'm sorry, but I didn't quite catch your name.”  
“I am Cassandra. And yours?”  
“You can call me Hawke. Everyone does.”  
“Hawke? As in-”  
“Anyway, I was thinking, would you like to meet Varric?”

Her mouth hung limp and her eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”  
“He's a good friend of mine, actually and he frequents this bar often. But I'm sure you already knew that.” The smirk on Cassandra's face told all. “And he just happens to be here tonight.”  
“He is!?” Her eyes darted around the room. “I-I mean, I wouldn't mind meeting him and if he would be willing...” She reached a hand down towards her book.  
“Sign your book? Sure! He's always willing to write an autograph or two for a beautiful woman.”

They rose from the table, Cassandra scrabbling for her things and trying her best to stay calm. Bless. Hawke strode over with the biggest shit-eating grin all over her face.

“Varric, this is Cassandra. She's a fan of your-”  
“I just want to say that the Knight Commander didn't deserve her fate at the end of the last book!”  
Varric raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms on the table. “Oh, on the contrary. I can see why you'd think that though.” He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “Why don't you join me and try to convince me otherwise.”  
“I- yes!”

The two wasted no time arguing their points in the most flirtatious manner they could. But with introductions out the way, Hawke ambled over to the bar and ordered another drink. A double, this time.

“How are you feeling?” Isabela asked.  
“I'm going to have to get back to you on that.” She sighed, taking a sip of her drink, a strained look on her face. “Good... and bad.”  
“You always did have a way with words.” Isabela joked.  
“I just-” A sigh fell from her and she reached for her drink again. “I'm happy that he's... I'm glad. I really am, especially after everything I put him through.”  
“But?”  
“But...” She shrugged, stealing a glance of the two, chuckling at a joke. “I don't know.”  
“You're _still_ holding a candle?”

She blinked slowly and looked away. So that was a yes.

“But I did this to myself. I did this to _him_ so I have no reason to complain. All I can do is try to move forward.”  
“Attagirl!” Isabela nudged her. “Chainz tonight?”  
Hawke bit her lip. “Am I not banned?”  
“Naah, sweetie. I've been chucked out of Chainz more times than I can count. Of course you're not banned!”  
“I don't know...”  
“Well, think of it as payback.”  
“For what?”  
“Looking after Varric when you fucked off? Acting as a buffer between you and him? Also, I gave you a hell of a lot of weed from my personal stash that I could charge you for...”  
“Fine, fine.” Hawke sighed, trying to hide the twinkle in her eye. “Chainz it is then.”  
“And who knows? Maybe you'll find Mr. Right there.”  
“Do they have to be a Mr?”  
A smirk grew on Isabela's face, “True, true...”  
“And Isabela?”  
“Hmm?”  
“Thank you.”  
“Oh, sweetie! Save that for when we're a lot less sober.” But she pulled Hawke into a grappling hug. “Just don't try looking for any fuckbuddies any time soon. One night stands only, okay?”

She smirked at that, her eyes a little less watery than Isabela had expected.

“Okay.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is actually the first writing project that I've ever finished (apart from short stories/one-shots etc) and tbh there was so many moments where I didn't think I'd get to this point. This fanfic really ground me down to the core at times, especially with how depressing it is, but I think it was worth it.
> 
> I'd like to thank my beautiful and gorgeous girlfriend for being my beta and convincing me that I amn't Hawke (especially when I at ice cream and drank alcohol in the bath for "character research") and for cheering me up and reminding me to eat when I couldn't tear myself from my laptop for even a moment.
> 
> Also thanks spotify for all the amazing music that I needed for getting into the writing mood.  
> Also thanks to my cat, Mason, who I got just before part 2 came out. I don't know why I'm even thanking him here because he can't read or anything but meh  
> And thank you to weed for all the epiphanies it gave me, especially towards the end of the writing process.  
> And and and thank you everyone who has read, commented and kudos-ed this. Honestly, it means the world to me!
> 
> I've also made a tumblr for my writing stuff and I'll probably put up some character development shit from this in case anyone is interested. https://varric4husbando.tumblr.com Also if anyone has any questions about the story or that then just ask.
> 
> Part 2 of this series is basically going to be smut. So keep an eye out for that ;)
> 
> Now it's time to get really, really, really high
> 
> EDIT [15/6/2018]  
> So I bet it's no surprise that I identify quite strongly as Hawke, and therefor Hawke's breakdown was based off of previous (and current at the time of writing) experience. I found out that I have psychotic depression and it's been an ongoing theme in my life. Therefor Hawke also is having at least a psychotic episode (if she isn't suffering from psychotic depression herself - which I think she is)  
> I just feel it relevant to say because I think if you relate too strongly to Hawke in this, please think about looking for help.
> 
> Thank you again for reading my attempt at figuring my own brain out <3


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